


until tomorrow

by marquelle



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, I guess???, M/M, Minor Violence, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2020-03-09
Packaged: 2020-10-17 14:28:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 34,681
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20622548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marquelle/pseuds/marquelle
Summary: He had always heard about the Games. He had watched the Games ever since he was three years old, deemed old enough for the blood and violence of the real world. He had trained for the Games ever since he was eight, feeling confident in his chances to bring honour to his name and district.He realised too late that he didn’t really know the Games until he was thrust into them.We’ve just gotta survive until tomorrow.(aka Wooyoung had lived his whole life waiting for this moment but a certain blonde-haired boy shows him that life never goes to plan)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> before you read this, please heed the CHOSE NOT TO USE ARCHIVE WARNINGS. as a writer, this is my choice to avoid spoilers but this fic shouldn't be massively triggering.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _He couldn’t figure out if he hated or admired Choi San.___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i was honestly going to wait until i had more content for upcoming chapters before i posted this but i figured that i might as well just post it now. also i've taken some liberty with the hunger games universe since i only watched the movies and that was a while ago so there may be some inaccuracies. hopefully you guys like it.

Fighting was the only real thing Wooyoung knew about this world. There was always going to be bad people and bad situations and he would always need to fight his way out. For years, that’s all he ever did: fight. And it’s got him this far in life. Seventeen years of non-stop sparring and combat had built him up — both physically and mentally **—** until he could say with confidence that he was ready for the big fight.

Seventeen years of fighting and it all came down to this.

Tomorrow. 

Tomorrow was Reaping Day and Wooyoung knew, whether his name was called out or not, that he would be the one to represent District 1.

  
  
  


“Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be forever in your favour.”

Wooyoung, along with all other citizens of the district, watched the mandatory video that explained the origin and motivation behind the Games — the same video that had watched for the past however many years brought all the way from the Capitol.

The familiar words sounded in his head.

“One young man and woman, to fight to the death…”

He stood slightly straighter, as if it would somehow increase the likelihood of his name getting picked. He was finally ready. Ready to bring honour to his name, his district.

The video soon concluded and silence fell upon the crowd of teenagers that were gathered before the grand stage. On the stage stood the escort for the district, whose name he had already forgotten. They were decked in a cerulean pantsuit and with an equally flashy blue wig that added a few centimetres to their height. Their appearance was so extravagant (although not too different from that of District 1 citizens) that Wooyoung wasn’t even sure if it was a man or woman. Not that it mattered. He just needed them to call out the names. 

They walked gracefully to the microphone at the centre of the stage. 

“The time has arrived to choose our tributes of the 74th Hunger Games,” they announced, “and as always, ladies first.”

The tension rose higher as they walked without hesitation to the bowl to the right of the stage. Their hand skirted the edge of the pile to pick a name towards the side of the bowl and unfolded the dainty piece of paper while walking back to the microphone.

“Hwang Yeji.”

The words were met with several cheers as a young girl emerged from the crowd, face adorned with a confident smile. Wooyoung noticed that her face seemed familiar. She was probably another Career that he had been vaguely acquainted with at the academy. She took her place next to the escort and looked at the crowd with applaudable determination in her eyes. It was sad that she would inevitably have to die.

“Next, the boys.”

The escort approached the left side of the stage and dove their hand into the second bowl of names. Wooyoung crosses his fingers and tried to recall the number of times he had entered his name into the pool this year. He couldn’t remember exactly but it had resulted in more than enough tesserae for his family for a couple of years. Now that he was ready for the Games, he was going full out.

Not that they particularly needed the tesserae, but it was a nice bonus. 

And it wasn’t that Wooyoung was particularly filial either. 

Honestly, Wooyoung hasn’t even spent much time with his family. He slept and lived his days at the academy, only visiting occasionally to let his parents know that he was still alive. If anything, Wooyoung was probably a bad son, but he didn’t feel particularly guilty considering they weren’t exactly good parents. 

“Jung Wooyoung.”

The voice of the escort quickly pulled him out of his musings as he heard the familiar name being announced to all of District 1. It took several more seconds for him to realise that it was _ his _name, courtesy of the growing number of stares from those surrounding him. 

His eyes snapped to the stage and made eye contact with the escort.

It was his name.

He was the chosen tribute.

_ He was going to compete in the Hunger Games _.

A sudden movement from the corner of his eye revealed another boy stepping forward in similar motions that Wooyoung had seen many times before and he could practically hear the words about to come out of his mouth. 

“I accept,” he yelled out, surprised those around him and halting the boy in his position. Wooyoung took purposeful steps towards the stage, stopping in front of the other boy to give him a menacing glare before continuing.

It was common knowledge among the other academy trainees that Wooyoung was among the top competitors that the instructors had recommended for the Games this year. Anyone who had received the correct training in order to win the Games would’ve known to back out of any potential challenges as they would have been acquainted with him. The earlier boy wasn’t someone Wooyoung had recognised and therefore was probably only making a rash decision to receive benefits or fame from the Capitol by volunteering. If anything, Wooyoung was saving him from a gruesome fate.

The crowd remained silent as Wooyoung took his last steps to stand next to the female tribute. He then turned to survey the crowd, a sea of blank stares.

Suddenly, he yelled out a deep cry of determination while punching his fist in the air and the tension broke as fellow academy trainees joined in, releasing echoing shouts as a battlecry. Soon, more voices of other children joined and Wooyoung plastered on a satisfied grin as he shook hands with the girl — he had already forgotten her name — and was quickly led into the district’s main hall.

  
  


“You have three minutes,” the guard said before the familiar figure of his mother rushed into the room. They stood facing each other for a few moments and Wooyoung acknowledged for the first time in a few months just how tired his mother looked.

He wondered if she had always looked this tired.

“Oh my god, Wooyoung,” she finally said. Wooyoung stood slightly taller than her and she approached him with caution. Her voice was soft, as if she was scared that if she were any louder, she would shatter their bubble. “I knew that this day would be coming, but it still feels all too soon.”

“You knew I was going to compete no matter what,” Wooyoung replied. “Even if they hadn’t called out my name, I would’ve volunteered.” 

His mum gave him a sad smile. “I know, sweetie.”

She slowly approached him, opening her arms and encircling him within a loose hug. Wooyoung stood frozen before he figured that he should probably hug her back.

They stood like that until Wooyoung was reminded of their situation, hearing shouts of Peacekeepers from outside. He drew back to look her properly in the eyes.

“I just want you to know that I will be back because I’m going to win the Games. But I’m doing it for the district, for our honour. It has nothing to do with you.”

He saw the subtle flinch of his mother’s expression which was quickly schooled into a look of contentment. 

“Well,” she said softly, “I wouldn’t expect any less from you, my son. Just know that I’ll be proud regardless. No matter what you’re doing it for.”

Wooyoung held his breath.

“I’m proud of you, Wooyoung. Your father and I are sorry for what happened but now, I know that you’ve grown up well.”

_ No thanks to you _, he thought. Nonetheless, he could feel the shame in his mother’s voice and his anger simmered a little.

“I know you’re going to bring honour to our district.”

The doors suddenly banged open, causing his mother to jump slightly and Wooyoung was brought to the harsh reality that for once, he actually wanted to hold onto this moment a little longer. He felt like his younger self again, looking up his mother as she crafted pastries and sweets in the sweet aroma of their kitchen. If he imagined hard enough, he thought he could see the same loving smile in the woman that was standing in front of him now.

“Time’s up.”

She was dragged out of the room before Wooyoung could say his goodbyes.

The room was left in silence, only faint noises being heard from outside. Wooyoung took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly. He scoffed at the shakiness of his breath. He wasn’t going to start feeling regret now. 

The silence was broken once again by the double door opening and he raised his head to see the forlorn gaze of his best friend who stood frozen in the doorway.

“I should’ve known your stubborn ass would’ve entered your name in the pool over a hundred times.”

Wooyoung huffed and felt himself smile slightly. “Not even you could convince me out of this.” 

They met halfway in a tight hug and Wooyoung didn’t hesitate to bury his head in the crook of the other’s neck, feeling comfort for the first time that day. Despite anticipating this day for so long and finally achieving his goal, it was only when he held the other tightly that he noticed that he had been shaking.

“Take care of yourself, Yeosang.”

The other boy laughed slightly. “That’s what I should be saying to you.”

“You know I can handle myself.”

“I know you have a big ego.”

That caused Wooyoung to laugh softly and Yeosang smiled as they broke apart. 

“You’re smiling,” Yeosang said.

Wooyoung furrowed his brows. “Yeah, and?”

“I just don’t think you’ll be doing a lot of that during the next few weeks,” Yeosang answered, smile slowly fading.

“Hey, don’t leave me feeling sad here,” Wooyoung said, as he gave Yeosang a weak punch. He pulled him into another hug and the two of them simply remained in silence until their time was up.

“I’m gonna miss you,” Yeosang said as he was led out of the room.

“You won’t have to. I’ll be back before you know it.”

  
  
  


It was in the dining carriage on their ride to the Capitol that Wooyoung heard it.

“You know, there’s a volunteer from 12 this year,” Tibeau said in passing as they were all enjoying crumpets, waffles, fruit salad, scrambled eggs and croissants. Wooyoung had quickly learnt that the extravagantly dressed escort for District 1 had an equally extravagant personality and an even more extravagent appetite. Jackson and Jessi - their mentors - were also seated with them.

“What?” Wooyoung’s head shot up, earning him a pointed look from Yeji — they had been reintroduced, saving Wooyoung from the awkwardness of not knowing her name — as he realised that he still had food in his mouth. He quickly shut his mouth and continued chewing.

“Yeah, it was a boy,” the escort continued. “First time I’ve ever heard of such a thing happening.”

Tibeau then turned to a small television connected to the wall on the right and Wooyoung watched as he played the video of the different reapings. The events proceeded as normal for each district and Wooyoung observed the stark contrast between his home and the poorer districts. He had always associated the notion of home with vibrant and loud colours, with equally loud and vibrant people. 

_ Apparently, the same could not be said for those from District 12 _, Wooyoung thought as he watched the clip of their reaping. The entire greyscale of the district made it seem to be a whole other world.

It started normally. District 12’s escort — a woman decked out in bright pink — played the mandatory video and then proceeded to pick out the female tribute’s name. Wooyoung noted a distinct lack of enthusiasm from the crowd.

Then the boy’s name was called out and Wooyoung’s full attention was now on the screen.

“Choi Jongho.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Wooyoung searched the crowd for any movement, any indication of who the tribute was. It was as if the area existed in a vacuum as a complete stillness settled over the entire scene.

Then Wooyoung noticed movement from the left side. The crowd had slightly parted and all eyes had pointed towards one boy in particular. The cameras then zoomed into the boy and Wooyoung noticed just how scared he looked. He was of average height and had light brown hair which fell into his eyes. He was quite young, Wooyoung noted, perhaps fifteen. His eyes darted quickly between the crowd and his expression reminded him of a beaten cat.

The boy then took two shaky breaths before hesitantly stepping forward and began his long journey towards the stage. All of the other children parted willingly and they shared the same fearful expression. Everyone remained silent and the only audible sounds were the stiff footsteps of the chosen tribute.

Suddenly, the cameras panned over to commotion in another area of the crowd, towards the back. An older boy was pushing his way through the crowd and began racing towards the younger boy once he successfully freed himself from the pack of people.

“Jongho, no!”

The tribute quickly spun around and stared with wide eyes at the older boy. Peacekeepers rushed forward to restrain the screaming boy and the younger boy’s eyes widened.

“No, wait! Jongho, no, come back—”

One of the Peacekeepers pushed the boy back roughly, causing him to fall to the ground. A swarm of people from the crowd rushed forward but they were also held back by more Peacekeepers. The boy quickly got up and attempted to push through again, but to no avail.

“No, take me!” He stopped fighting and stood up taller. “I volunteer! I volunteer as tribute!”

Complete silence fell once again and Wooyoung was only faintly aware of the train speeding across a bridge towards the Capitol. All eyes within the train carriage were glued upon the screen, holding their breaths as they watched District 12 bear witness to their first ever volunteer.

Even the Peacekeepers were stunned and the boy was able to momentarily break free. The older boy ran towards the younger one and scooped him up in a tight hug. 

Wooyoung noticed the physical resemblance.

“Well, here we have it,” the escort finally spoke into the microphone, “our male tribute for District 12. Please come up to the stage, love.”

The older boy whispered some words to the younger before straightening up and making his way to the stage. Wooyoung could tell he was trying to exude confidence, but his eyes wavered.

“Could you tell us your name, please?” the escort asked once the boy was standing next to the female tribute. His chocolate brown hair fell into his eyes and he attempted to brush it aside.

“Choi San.”

“Well, San, you are very brave. Was that your brother back there?”

“Yes.” 

That earned a noise of sympathy from the lady, before she turned back to the crowd. “District 12, I present to you your male and female tributes of the 74th Hunger Games. Kim Jiwoo and Choi San.”

Instead of applause, the crowd raised their hands in a three-fingered salute.

  
  
  


Wooyoung wasn’t dumb to think that a volunteer from 12 would be brushed off by everybody. Yes, it was extremely rare to have a volunteer from the poorer districts, but once he arrived at the Capitol, that was all anyone talked about.

_ “Did you hear about the boy from District 12?” _

_ “Oh yeah, I heard about him and his brother. _

_ “Everyone’s definitely going to be paying more attention to 12 this year.” _

Wooyoung was ready to snap and he hadn’t even met this boy yet. 

“I hope you know that you’re not doing yourself any good by angrily staring at the wall.” 

Wooyoung whipped around to see the smug expression of Yeji as she walked towards one of the stalls. He shook his head and opted to follow her. 

“You know, maybe you should get to know the boy first before deciding to burn him to pieces,” she continued.

“Can you just shut up?”

“You’re too entertaining when you’re annoyed.”

They had been wandering around the Capitol for the whole day and it was only noon. Tibeau had allowed them one day of exploring the city before the tribute parade would begin. For some reason, Yeji had decided to wake up unreasonably early to maximise their time. And for some reason which Wooyoung couldn’t fathom, she had decided to drag him along as well. It honestly wasn’t that different from their own district.

“Bonding time,” she had said.

“You know, I’m just gonna kill you in the end.”

She scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”

  
  
  


Another thing that Wooyoung learnt at the Capitol was that makeovers were painful. Very painful. He had never really cared for looking pretty before but apparently beauty would win over the Capitol (and hence, sponsors) so he endured the pain. They plucked his eyebrows and waxed his arms and legs before giving him a slight haircut. Then he was led to a separate bathroom where he was to take a shower. 

“We’re gonna make you look fucking amazing tonight,” Tertia greeted him after his shower, beaming widely. The stylist guided him towards a full-length mirror. “I mean, you already have a pretty face but we gotta make sure that everyone’s only gonna be looking at you.”

“I just don’t wanna look like a fool,” Wooyong answered. “District 1 costumes can be either hit or miss.”

“That’s true,” the stylist answered. “Well, you’re lucky then that the old stylist has retired.”

His district is known for its luxury and wealth and more times than not, tributes are dressed in ridiculous clothing that presents a parody of their status, something Wooyoung was not prepared to adorn on his body.

Fifteen minutes later, Wooyoung was standing in front of a mirror and regarding his perfectly tailored all white outfit. He was wearing a white suit jacket, made out of silk, with no shirt underneath to reveal an array of chain necklaces decorating his neck. It contrasted nicely with his black hair and tanned skin. His loose pants were also silk and stopped just above his feet where he wore heeled boots. The outfit was finished off with a white harness and silver chains wrapped around his waist as well as jeweled cuffs on his jacket. 

_ A mixture of royalty and modern innovation _, Tertia had said. It was definitely different from many past costumes of District 1 and Wooyoung could confidently say that he approved.

He exited the dressing room and Tertia immediately crowded around him and turned him around several times before deciding that the fit was perfect. 

“Wooyoung, you look delectable,” the stylist said while grinning and Wooyoung couldn’t help the small smile that made its way onto his face. He had known he was attractive, but those words have never been said to his face. 

Tertia then sat him down and began combing his hair. Wooyoung closed his eyes and let the faint tugs relax him. He felt gel being massaged into his hair and he was beginning to like the feeling. When he opened his eyes at Tertia’s request, he saw that one side of his dark hair was slicked back while the other remained natural, falling into his eyes. The stylist had also placed a set of long silver earrings on the tabletop. He didn’t hesitate to put them on and smiled when he looked at his completed look.

A few minutes later, Yeji came out of her dressing room and Wooyoung noticed that she was also adorned in all white, wearing an elegant dress of silk with silver jewellery on her wrists and neck. She also wore an intricate jeweled headpiece that sat daintily upon her hair that had been styled into effortless waves.

Tibeau took one glance at the two of them and erupted in rounds of applause. “Well, don’t you two just look like the epitome of luxury,” he cried and Wooyoung rolled his eyes when he saw a hint of tears. 

  
  
  


The parade ran smoothly, as usual. Being from District 1, Wooyoung and Yeji were instructed to go first and hence were not able to get a good glance of the other districts’ costumes. He guessed he would have to wait until they were all lined up later.

“Are you feeling nervous?” Tibeau asked softly as they readied themselves beside their designated chariot. 

“Not at all.”

Tibeau huffed out a laugh. “I expect nothing less from you. You’re a tough cookie.”

Without much delay, their chariot entered the giant hall to loud cheers and Wooyoung plastered a confident grin as he waved gracefully towards the cheering crowds. Tertia had added the final touches of silver makeup and a silver sceptre that both him and Yeji held between them. The sceptre held a bright flame at its tip, which was apparently meant to show their burning passion. 

(“You can be Vulcan for a day.”

“Who the fuck is that?”

Tertia laughed. “God of fire, young grasshopper.”)

Their chariot stopped first, in front of a raised platform where the infamous figure of President Snow stood. The man was looking down at all of them with a sharp gaze. Wooyoung narrowed his eyes when their gazes met. 

Soon enough, all twelve chariots were stationary and the president stepped up to the microphone. “Welcome. Welcome, tributes,” his voice boomed out across the hall, commanding silence and rapt attention. His voice continued but Wooyoung chose to observe the other tributes. 

It was the first time he had seen them all together.

As expected, there were some pretty questionable costumes from several districts. Either the stylists were unoriginal, or they truly believed a cowboy outfit was suitable for this parade and either way, Wooyoung felt pity for the unlucky tributes. His eyes scanned the row of tributes until they finally landed upon the last chariot, causing him to gasp slightly.

He remembered past costumes of miners and rubble for the coal district but it seems like they finally managed to fire that stylist. Instead of the usual atrocity, both of them were dressed in black, representing coal, with encrusting pieces of diamond lining their sleeves. There were also diamond crystals decorating their hair and the rest of the clothing too, illuminating them as the centrepieces of the parade.

He scanned their faces and tried to recall the tributes from 12.

_ No _.

His jaw dropped as he remembered the infamous reaping video. Passing his gaze over the female tribute, he focused upon the male, expression confident and defiant as he stared up to President Snow.

He remembered the boy breaking away from the crowd and protesting against the Peacekeepers to save his brother. That boy was Choi San; the name he had heard everywhere he went in the Capitol and the one he swore he would take out as soon as possible in the Games.

But the boy standing in the District 12 chariot wasn’t Choi San.

Choi San wasn’t _ blonde _.

The boy from the reaping video had had light brown hair, just like his brother, which blended into the sea of brown and black that had been characteristic of District 12. San was from District 12. He had brown hair.

The boy in front of him had soft blonde hair, parted in the middle and embellished with diamond crystals. It enhanced his pale skin which was contrasted against the black of their costume. His warm brown eyes, highlighted with a gold eyeshadow, held a piercing gaze that suited their intense visuals. Wooyoung wasn’t sure if he simply hadn’t noticed before, but his cheekbones seemed more prominent and his overall appearance was very regal.

Choi San was blonde.

And maybe Wooyoung was a little amazed. 

He suddenly heard the crowd cheer louder and nearly fell at the sudden movement of the chariot. The horses began heading towards the exit and Wooyoung concluded that the parade was at a close. He resumed his confident persona, managing to catch a falling rose from the audience, until they had exited the room of deafening cheers.

“That wasn’t too bad, was it?” Tertia asked as Wooyoung and Yeji stepped down from the chariot.

“Not bad at all,” Wooyoung answered offhandedly, eyes scanning the room for a familiar blonde head.

  
  
  


“In two weeks, twenty-three of you will be dead. One of you will be alive.”

The instructor made eye contact with every tribute in the room and Wooyoung was surprised at the chill that ran down his spine. 

“The winner is determined by how well you pay attention to the next four days, and maybe just a little bit of luck. You'll need to make sure to play your cards right, because I can assure you, you all have the capability to win this. You’ve just gotta learn how.”

They were told to not fight with other tributes while training and the instructor explained the basic layout of the training centre, before they were left to their own devices.

Don’t exert yourself too much during the next few days, Jackson had told him. You’re a Career. They all know that you’re strong but you still want some element of surprise on your side.

Wooyoung watched as many tributes walked over to the impressive display of weapons. Yeji confidently walked over to the rack of knives and swiftly threw one into the centre of a target. After only a day of wandering around the city with her, he had forgotten that she had literally trained for years to kill every single person in this room, just like him. 

_ So much for not showing off. _

He shook his head and walked over to a stack of spears. He reached out for one and took a few seconds to feel the familiar weight in his hands. Simply letting his mind focus, he went through the usual motions of positioning himself side on to the target and catapulting his forearm forward, keeping his vision on the bullseye the whole time.

The spear struck clean in the middle.

Wooyoung admired his work for a few seconds. Turning around, he caught the gaze of another boy and his eyes narrowed when he realised they were the warm brown orbs of a familiar face. The blonde’s eyes were wide as they moved from Wooyoung’s figure to the bullseye.

He couldn’t figure out if he hated or admired Choi San.

Anyone would see the heroism in self-sacrifice for the sake of family; something that San embodied greatly. Perhaps if he weren’t so determined in competing in the Games, he would have openly admired him.

But right now, San stood in front of him as an obstacle to his Hunger Games victory.

Without another glance, he walked straight past the other.

  
  
  


“You don’t have any sore muscles, do you?” was how Jackson greeted him the next morning. His mentor had seemingly already helped himself to the bountiful meal that the Avoxes had prepared.

Wooyoung shook his head as he slumped next to the older male and immediately grabbed for one of the pastries.

“So you listened to my advice, then?” the mentor continued. “To be honest, I thought you would be the rebellious type and simply follow your own schedule or something.”

“Well, I mean, you have won the Games before,” he mumbled, which was muffled by the food in his mouth. “I’d be stupid if I didn’t listen to you.”

Jackson nodded in approval. “Just make sure to maintain a balance and not overexert yourself. And while we’re at it, we should probably work on that attitude before you have to go on stage for your interview.”

Wooyoung whipped around to glare at him. “What attitude?”

Jackson laughed. “That attitude, young man. Look, I don’t know how you think you look to other people, but you don’t want people to think you’re cocky. Like, I get that you’re confident — and you should be — but people aren’t gonna like it if you obviously think that you’re better than everyone else. Remember, when you’re hurt and dying in the arena, a gift from a sponsor can save your life. And if you want sponsors, you gotta get people to like you.”

“Aren’t people gonna like me once they see me getting a high score?”

He received a raised brow from the elder. “How many Careers with high scores do you see getting gifts each year?” 

Wooyoung remained silent.

“Exactly. The Capitol ain’t gonna root for some rich kid who simply goes around killing people. Yes, they enjoy the violence and blood. But most of all, they just want to be entertained.” Jackson leaned in. “Give them a good show and they’ll do anything to keep you alive.”

  
  
  


The second day of training passed much like the first. Wooyoung went through a couple rounds of sparring with the trainers and paid a visit to some of the survival skills stations. It was after lunch, when he was attempting to untie a constrictor knot that he felt a heavy gaze upon him.

He looked up to see the familiar mop of blonde hair and he subconsciously scowled. “What do you want?”

“Nothing,” the boy said, softly, “just wasn’t expecting you to be over here.” He looked over to the other Careers, currently occupied with sparring and physical training. Wooyoung followed his gaze.

“Don’t underestimate me, 12.”

The blonde raised his brow. “Trust me. I won’t.”

Wooyoung couldn’t help rolling his eyes as he went back to fumbling with the rope and he had been at it for another three minutes when he realised that the shadow over him hadn’t moved.

“Are you planning to spend all your training time watching me?” he muttered, head still down as he tried to block out the piercing stare.

“Are you planning on spending all your training time failing to untie a simple knot?”

Wooyoung’s head snapped up to see the now amused face of Choi San looking down on him, almost too similar to how one would look at a toddler trying to walk.

“Excuse me?”

San suddenly knelt down next to him and Wooyoung unconsciously leant back. Up close, he looked even more breathtaking. 

He averted his gaze to the other’s hands on the knot. San’s words didn’t register in his brain but he remained frozen as the blonde boy deftly untied it with his slender fingers, effectively pulling the rope free. Wooyoung stared at the limp material before seeing the smirk on the other’s face.

“Got it,” he said, as he roughly grabbed the rope and swiftly turned on his heel to be anywhere that wasn’t near Choi San.

  
  


It wasn’t pettiness that caused him to watch San as he amateurly threw a knife at the edge of the bullseye.

It wasn’t pettiness that caused him to walk over to the boy, ending up only a metre away.

It wasn’t pettiness that made him to say the first words that came to his mind, syllables overflowing with burning spite.

“Are you planning on wasting your time by entertaining everyone with your shitty aim?”

Well, maybe he was a little annoyed. And perhaps he wanted to teach 12 a little lesson.

San turned around, giving him a disarming smile. Wooyoung felt his urge to punch the pretty boy grow stronger.

“Are you offering one on one services?” His eyes held glints of amusement and Wooyoung was beginning to think that this plan was going to backfire.

“Like I’d bother with a helpless case like you.”

“Then why are you bothering with conversation?” San’s smile didn’t fade and he had to consciously submerge the desire to break out into a full-fledged fight. Wooyoung wasn’t risking his position in the competition just because of one annoying tribute.

“Just passing by.”

San laughed sardonically. “Feel free to keep on moving.”

Wooyoung scoffed before moving to the knife collection and picking out a decently sized one. Using refined movements, he flicked his wrist _just so _ and the knife spun in a straight path past San — millimetres away from grazing the blonde’s face — to impale the bullseye behind him directly in the centre.

“Try not to hurt yourself before the real fight starts, 12,” Wooyoung drawled. “Wouldn’t want you being at a disadvantage.”

  
  
  


Wooyoung turned once more in his bed, trying to lull himself into the depths of sleep. However, he had never really been good at letting go of tension and apparently that wasn’t going to change soon.

His mind flashed with heat — burning flames, their sceptre in the tribute parade, one single match bringing the house of cards down in smoke — and he felt a sudden need to _ do something _. 

He imagined all of the tributes, brainstorming the countless ways that he could take them down. He was already prepared, he knew it. All he needed were matches, food, water and any weapon and he would slowly take out all of them, one by one. He could give them a merciful death, spearing straight through their heart or slicing across their neck and effectively cutting off their spinal cord. He could torture some of them if needed, dangling from a noose, choking on their blood. Some of them could burn or drown if the arena was suited for those conditions.

He imagined a certain blonde head of hair, contrasting greatly with the sea of black. Traditionally, most people would opt for darker hair, serving as an asset in camouflage especially during the night. The obnoxious splash of blonde either meant that 12 was stupid or overconfident and both options infuriated him.

_ Does he think he’s better than me? _

Once more, Wooyoung wondered who this boy from District 12 truly was.

There was only one day of training left before they were to show their skills to the Gamemakers. Everything depended on getting a good score. It would be a display of his capabilities for survival and victory.

Jackson’s words suddenly rang out in his head. _ Give them a good show and they’ll do anything to keep you alive. _

_ A good show. _ He scoffed. _ What even was a good show? Didn’t they just mob together to watch the violent acts of children in the desperate attempt of survival? Wouldn’t a good show just mean showing them that I can fight my way out of there? _

That was the reality, after all.

They all enter as children of Panem, still growing and learning of the workings of life. As soon as the enter the arena, they are condemned to being corrupted souls. They would do anything possible to make it out alive, to see their friends and family again. Or die trying.

It was cruel but it was the way their world worked. Wooyoung wasn’t going to let the world decide when he died.

By now, there was no chance of falling asleep soon so he sat up and padded across the bedroom floor. Their floor was silent, as it should be since all the others were sleeping.

He recalled being told about the rooftop garden when he had first been introduced to the Training Centre. His feet led him to the elevator and before he realised it, he was breathing the fresh night air as the elevator doors opened to reveal the luscious garden of the top floor.

He took slow strides towards the greenery, admiring the arrangement of colours and combination of fragrances. As he walked further, he saw that all the hedges were trimmed orderly and all the flowers were flourishing. Even though it wasn’t spring, the garden remained absolutely beautiful.

He wondered just how many people visited this place frequently for them to keep it in such pristine condition.

He turned another corner, reaching the edge of the rooftop, when he saw the familiar mop of blonde hair and silently cursed.

_ Of fucking course. _

“The fuck are you doing here?”

The blonde jumped slightly and Wooyoung smirked at the way his eyes widened when they made eye contact.

“Damn, kid,” Wooyoung mused, walking slightly closer and allowing himself to lean against one of the walls. From his angle, he was looking down at the other, who was seated on the floor, near the edge. “If you’re really that jumpy, you won’t last a minute in the Games.”

“Well, in the Games, I’ll be aware that there are people on my back.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yes.” 

Wooyoung found himself taken aback by the other’s resolute expression.

“Anyway, you didn’t answer my question,” Wooyoung said. “Why are you here?”

San shrugged. “Why are _ you _here?”

Wooyoung rolled his eyes in response. “You’re really fucking annoying, you know that?”

San only smiled in response, causing Wooyoung to grit his teeth. “Why, thank you.”

“Wasn’t a compliment,” he grumbled, pushing himself off the wall to stalk back to the elevator. Staying in 12’s company any longer was bound to push his limits of self-control.

San’s voice made him stop in his tracks.

“Stay.”

Wooyoung turned around slowly. “And why the hell would I do?”

He scowled at seeing San’s overly saccharine smile. “I get a feeling that you don’t make friends easily. Might as well fix that up before we all die.”

“You mean before you die,” Wooyoung said sharply, however found himself walking back to where San was seated and lowering himself to sit opposite him. “I’m gonna win.”

“I don’t know, Wooyoung,” San said. “You seem to be underestimating a lot of people.”

“You better not be including yourself in that.”

San raised one brow. “And what if I am?”

He scoffed. “I haven’t seen you get a hit on anything with a weapon since we got here. You’re definitely bluffing.”

“I wouldn’t do that,” San replied cheerily, like he was fucking five years old. “Hongjoong can vouch for me on that one. He’s one of my friends. If you do end up winning the Games, you know, you should totally visit him. He’ll tell you how great of a person I am and then you can feel guilty about ending my precious life.”

“Sure,” he drawled and found great delight in San’s glare in response to his dripping sarcasm. He didn't give a fuck about this Hongoong guy right now and he was certain those feelings wouldn't change anytime in the near future.

They fell into a comfortable silence and Wooyoung shivered a little when he realised that he had only walked up here in a thin shirt.

San’s voice broke the blanket of silence.

“Would you jump?” 

Wooyoung turned towards San with a confused expression and the other gave him a soft smile. It was a jarring contrast to his usual smirk. He looked out across the edge and towards the city, before averting his gaze directly down towards the ground. Wooyoung estimated that it would be a very long fall.

“If you could, would you jump right now?”

“Why would I do that?”

“I was thinking about it, before you arrived,” the blonde boy whispered. “Not that I actually could, with the forcefield and all. But if I could, it would just make things so much easier.”

Wooyoung thought about it. For many of the tributes, they were simply a pawn in the game of the Capitol. Many didn’t want to fight and most lacked the courage to even hurt someone. That’s what was interesting about the Games. When people are backed into a corner, their limits are tested and it’s a matter of whether they break through or succumb to their weaknesses.

Wooyoung supposed if he weren’t as strong, he may have also considered the option.

“However, that would just give you the satisfaction of having one less competitor,” San said, drawing Wooyoung back to the present and he saw the reemergence of his signature smirk. “So for that reason, I wouldn’t choose to jump, because that’s what you would want me to do.”

Wooyoung couldn’t explain why that left an unpleasant taste in his mouth.

  
  


He was cursing himself now for staying up late as he forced his eyes opened once more to focus on striking the flint in attempts to create a spark. San sat next to him and if he hadn’t been too tired, he would’ve physically removed the other from his vicinity.

The two of them had remained on the rooftop for about half an hour before Wooyoung had begun to really feel the cold. Strangely, he had felt reluctant to leave the other boy but decided that lingering on those thoughts for too long would be dangerous and instead headed back to the elevator after muttering a curt goodnight.

He hated San even more for not looking one bit fatigued this morning. 

“You know, the other Careers have been thinking that we’re starting an alliance with how much you’ve been around me,” Wooyoung muttered as he finally managed to catch a spark and then proceeded to carefully transfer the cloth to a pile of tinder.

“Not my fault you keep hanging out at these stations instead of sparring like all the others,” San quipped. “This is my territory so, technically, you’re trespassing.”

“You know, you can’t just rely on survival skills to get you through the Games,” Wooyoung grumbled. He observed the other boy’s calm demeanour and it only served to irritate him further that he showed nonchalance at the prospect of his death. He was acting like Wooyoung couldn’t completely take him down in less than ten seconds.

“What makes you think I don’t have other skills?”

“Because you just sit here and don’t actually practise any fighting.”

“That’s what you do, as well.”

Wooyoung stood up and pulled the other boy up by his shoulder. He dragged him over to the knife section. Surveying the choices, he selected a small dagger for San and held it out for him.

“I thought you already said my aim was shit.”

“Yeah, well this time I’m going to teach you.”

San looked at him incredulously until a knowing smirk graced his appearance. “So your services are still available?”

“Just this once.”

San broke eye contact to look around and Wooyoung followed to see all the other tributes either discussing with others from their district or training by themselves. 

“Why?”

On instinct, he grabbed the blonde by his shirt, pulling him closer until he suddenly realised the nonexistent space between them. He scowled before looking San directly in the eye. “Because I don’t like you, for some reason, and I want the pleasure of killing your useless ass myself. And to do that, you’ve gotta stay alive long enough for me to find you. Plus, it’s our last training session, so you might as well do something useful before you finalise your death wish.”

San remained silent, eyes wide and round, until they crinkled and disappeared with a disarming smile.

“Who says I ain’t gonna find you first?”

In lieu of a response, Wooyoung took San’s right hand and positioned the knife correctly. He felt San’s heavy gaze on him but opted to ignore it as he grabbed himself a knife for demonstrations.

“Throw it.”

San did a double take as Wooyoung continued to stare forward. “Huh?”

“Throw the knife at the target.”

“What? Now?”

He gave him a nod. “Yeah, I have to see how bad you are first, before I know what we have to work on.”

They settled on a staring contest and after a solid minute, San relinquished and gave the target a steely gaze.

His prep was sloppy and Wooyoung didn’t find much shock in seeing that the knife only grazed the second outer ring of the bullseye.

“Honestly, that was better than I expected.”

“What kind of low expectations of me do you have?” San’s childish glare elicited a laugh from Wooyoung. 

“Too many to count.”

He grabbed San another knife and felt contentment when the blonde held a correct grip on the blade. 

“Okay. Let’s get started.”

  
  
  


“You know, you should be resting well considering we’re getting scored tomorrow.”

San laughed. “You’re nothing but a big fucking hypocrite.”

Wooyoung joined him in the usual spot at the edge of the rooftop. This time, he had brought a much thicker jacket with him.

“You could’ve gone a little softer on the knife throwing tutorials,” the blonde said. “My arm’s bound to hurt tomorrow.”

“Don’t be a weak bitch. You gotta show the Gamemakers a good show because it’ll feel better when I kill you knowing that you actually tried to win.”

“Trust me, I will." San's voice came out as a soft whisper, yet his voice held the hidden thorns of vengeance. "I’m angry about this whole situation; the Games, the killing, the fact that they allow fucking kids to be killed for entertainment. I’m going to make them well aware of it.”

There was a pregnant pause.

“Do you regret volunteering?”

San looked away before answering. “Sometimes. But then I remember why I volunteered and I just feel angry about the whole thing. I had nearly made it out, nearly turned nineteen without ever getting called out. But when it wasn’t me, it was someone else. And now that I think about it, I was simply happy over someone else’s tragic fate. That’s kinda fucked up.”

“You can’t help it.”

“I volunteered because it was my brother.” Now his voice was a little less than a whisper. “I didn’t want to see him get hurt. Or worse. But I was okay when it was anybody else. And I watched them get stabbed, shot with an arrow and beaten to death. I could’ve volunteered for any of them.”

_ But I didn’t. _ San didn’t say those words but Wooyoung could practically hear them.

Back home, it was admired when people volunteered for the Games. It was an honour to hear your name called to represent and bring honour to District 1. He was once again reminded of the solemn faces of District 12 as they saluted their two tributes for the 74th Hunger Games.

The Games were unavoidable and he was starting to be aware of the true meaning of their ‘sacrifices’ as a result of the rebellion years and years ago. Lives were being stolen in the place of the fight for freedom enacted by their ancestors.

It wasn’t fair.

However, life - as Wooyoung was slowly learning now - was far from fair.

  
  
  


“I don’t get why you all are so on edge,” he groaned as he observed the rigid posture of everyone in the room. 

Tibeau was standing pin-straight next to Tertia and Yeji’s stylist, eyes glued onto television. On the screen, Kim Heechul was announcing that the tribute’s individual scores out of twelve would finally be released to the public. It would be the result of their performance in their private sessions with the Gamemakers and organisers. Of course, they would be beginning with tributes from District 1.

Jessi was standing with one hand on Yeji’s shoulder, who was curled up on the sofa. He couldn’t see her expression but he hadn’t seen the female victor look anything less of intimidating since they had met and although she was turned away from him, it felt as if she was death glaring his soul.

The only relaxed person in the room was Jackson, who also lay on the couch, arms loosely crossed and regarding the screen with an indifferent gaze. Wooyoung fell onto the couch next to him and sighed softly.

Despite himself, he bounced his leg in anticipation.

Of course, he wasn’t worried. His performance had been nothing less of his best. He had shown the Gamemakers his impressive aim when he had successfully used knives and spears to hit three consecutive bullseyes directly in the centre. He had then effectively decapitated a dummy with only two slices of a sword before moving onto sending another one flying across the room with a well-aimed kick.

They had called his session to a close earlier than expected and that either meant it went really well or really badly.

So Wooyoung wasn’t worried.

But that didn’t make it any less nerve wracking.

“And now we begin with District 1.”

Everyone in the room held their breath.

He instinctively reached out for Jackson’s arm and held on tightly.

“Jung Wooyoung,” he squeezed tighter “10.”

There was a collective outward sigh from the whole room but Wooyoung noticed how the girls on the other end of the couch remained tense. He continued watching the screen intently.

“Hwang Yeji, 9.”

Finally, the room erupted in cheers and both of them looked at each other with looks of relief, reassurance and a newfound confidence. Wooyoung found himself returning the soft smile she gave him.

The recording continued to play in the background as Tibeau began pouring glasses and they began a toast to the tributes. Wooyoung and Yeji both received sodas which were downed in an instant. They watched in amusement as Jackson poured more drinks, only to be stopped by Tibeau when some liquid began to stain the carpet.

It was only when the announcement was nearing a close that Wooyoung reminded himself to pay attention.

“District 11, Park Taelim. Six.”

Wooyoung held his breath.

“Now, we move onto District 12. First up, for the boys, we have Choi San...”

Heechul seemed to pause in his reading and immediately Wooyoung straightened his back.

“Choi San from District 12 with a score of eleven...”

Wooyoung’s jaw dropped and he vaguely heard the rest of the room go quiet.

  
  
  


“And here we have the male tribute from District 1. With promising skills and even better looks, it’s Jung Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung plastered the usual smile onto his face as he walked over to where Kim Heechul was seated. He waved at the audience with the confident yet slightly aloof aura that Jackson had instructed of him. Apparently, it worked with his face. 

Not too aloof though, because you don’t want to seem cocky.

“So Wooyoung, tell me,” Heechul started after they had both been seated, “how does it feel to finally represent District 1?”

“It’s truly an honour,” he recited the cards that Tibeau had shoved in his face thirty minutes before. “I’ve actually been waiting for this opportunity for so long and now I’m ready to completely give it my all. It’s not just about me; it’s a matter of District 1.”

“Wow, very patriotic of you. I’m sure everyone back home is so proud,” the host continued before donning a mischievous smile. “Now, Wooyoung, everyone in this room would agree with me in saying that you are a very dashing young man. Please enlighten us, is there someone special waiting at home for you?”

A natural smile graced his face. He wasn’t a stranger to these compliments and now was just another one of those occasions. “Well, I’m sorry to disappoint anyone who was waiting for a heartfelt and emotional story but there hasn’t been anyone who’s caught my eye back home.”

He refrained from saying that it was mainly due to no one being patient enough to deal with his shitty mood swings. 

“Well, frankly I don’t think anyone here is disappointed,” Heechul chuckled, earning laughs from the audience which Wooyoung took in stride.

He joined Yeji backstage when he had finished a few minutes later and together, they headed towards their designated dressing room where Tibeau and their stylists were waiting to congratulate them on successful interviews. When they exited, after having taken off their formal outfits, he spied a television screen displaying the ongoing interviews and he saw the vaguely familiar face of the girl from 12. She smiled a lot, he noted, and he could practically feel the Capitol falling in love with her innocence. 

Yeosang’s words immediately came to mind. _ I just don’t think you’ll be doing a lot of that during the next few weeks. _

Loud cheers erupted and Wooyoung focused back upon the screen to see that the girl had left and San was now seated opposite Kim Heechul. The blonde boy had donned his radiant smile and he seemed to have an aura that simply glowed under the spotlights. He was wearing an all-white outfit and once again, Wooyoung couldn’t help thinking he looked ethereal.

“We all saw your outfit for the tribute parade, San,” Heechul continued. “Tell me, how does it feel to be from District 12 and suddenly being dressed in clothes better than that of the Capitol.”

San laughed at the comment. “It was great, really. Let’s be real, I didn’t have high expectations considering the usual costumes for District 12 and I remember being completely frozen when my stylist showed me the final design for the first time. It’s the most expensive I’ve ever felt.”

Several audience members laughed along with him and if Wooyoung were not so hellbent on hating him, he might have laughed too. Instead, he wanted to punch himself for even thinking about that. And maybe punch San as well while he was at it.

Suddenly, Heechul leant forward and when he opened his mouth, his tone had dropped and his eyes took on a serious glint.

“Now, San, one last question. We’ve all seen your iconic reaping video. That was your younger brother, correct?”

“Yes.” San nodded and Wooyoung noticed some colour rising to his cheeks.

“That was very brave and I know everyone in this room agrees. As you know, District 12 has never had a volunteer before so this is monumental.”

“Well, I’ve never really thought of it that way and I really don’t know if I can live up to any expectations that people may have." San's voice began to take on a meeker tone.

“What was running through your mind right before you volunteered?”

“I just saw my brother walking alone towards the stage and I knew that I had to do something,” San answered while holding an earnest expression. “We had talked about it earlier and I knew how much he didn’t want to be a part of the Games. Last year was the first time he was entered and I still remember how relieved he was when he hadn’t been called. I couldn’t let him go through this at such a young age, so I just said the first thing that came to my mind.”

Once his interview came to a close, San exited the stage and Wooyoung only realised that he was still situated backstage, in front of the dressing rooms, when he saw District 12’s tribute appear at the end of the corridor and head towards him. He quickly glanced over the outfit and was surprised to see that it looked even better up close.

“Like what you see?” The smirk was ever present in the blonde’s voice.

“It’s too clean,” Wooyoung deadpanned. “Might look nicer when your blood drenching through it.”

“Still wanting to kill me, I see. And here I thought we were making progress in our relationship.”

“You think too highly of yourself.”

“Nope, that’s you.”

Before San could continue to walk away, Wooyoung gripped tightly onto his arm. 

“What the hell did you show those Gamemakers to get a fucking eleven?” he whispered as he narrowed his eyes at the blonde boy. “Because it sure as hell wasn’t those fucking knife skills.”

An angry spark lit in his chest as the boy only laughed in response, ripping out of his grasp and walking away.

“Find me in the Games and maybe you’ll figure it out,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  
  
  


Like the past few nights, Wooyoung couldn’t sleep and he resigned himself to the only option of seeing the annoying blonde tribute on the rooftop perhaps one last time before they were thrust into the arena.

He supposed he should say a proper goodbye first before he killed him quickly in the Games.

He took the necessary steps towards the elevator but stopped suddenly at the sight of a figure illuminated by the city through the window.

“Don’t let me stop you from going wherever you need to be.”

“I wasn’t going anywhere, dipshit.”

Yeji giggled and beckoned him over. He joined her at the window, looking out at the vast urban landscape that reminded him all too much of home. It was pretty and they admired the view in a comfortable silence.

“You’ve been talking with the boy from 12 recently,” she said. “Don’t tell me you’re going soft right before the Games.”

Surprisingly, she didn’t sound as spiteful as Wooyoung thought she would have. Instead, there was a hint of teasing.

“Like hell I would,” he spat back which only earned him a raised brow. 

“If you say so, Wooyoung.”

There was something about the blanket of the night that made it feel so much safer to reveal the darkest parts of him. Back at the academy, there had been many nights where he had escaped to the rooftop and simply relaxed in the absence of all eyes of other trainees and trainers.

“This is it, huh?” he whispered into the depths of the night.

“Yeah,” Yeji answered. Judging from her expression, Wooyoung guessed that she was sharing the same mindset as him. “Didn’t realise that I would ever feel this nervous.”

_ Me too. _

“Didn’t Jessi start calling you the Ice Queen or something?” Wooyoung laughed. “You better start acting like it when the Games begin.”

She narrowed her gaze at him but he didn’t miss her upturned mouth. 

  
  
  


“I ain’t gonna tell you much else because I know you got your own plan of domination lined up but you remember that you and the other Careers are a team first of all, so don’t go running off on your own, okay?”

Wooyoung snorted but the look on Jackson’s face told him that these last few moments together were not for laughter.

“Okay,” he said. “I got it, don’t worry.”

“Remember to work with the team because they’re gonna help you take out everyone else first. Then you can turn on them.”

Wooyoung feigned offence. “What do you take me for? A murderer?”

“A Hunger Games victor.”

They shared a smile before Jackson pulled him into a brief hug and Wooyoung was led into a large helicopter where some of the other tributes were already waiting. The ride was relatively short and when they landed, each tribute was ushered to their own room. Wooyoung entered to see that Tertia was waiting for him.

The atmosphere was tense in the room. He quickly donned the outfit laid out for him and turned back to allow the stylist to do his last-minute check.

“This is it, huh?”

Tertia gave him a sad smile and Wooyoung decided that he absolutely hated that look.

“Don’t say that,” he said. “I’m going to win this and we’ll be seeing each other in no time. There’s no way I’m gonna die before seeing your reaction to patbingsu.”

That earned a chuckle from the stylist, recalling an earlier conversation, and Wooyoung managed a small smile.

“That’s my boy.”

The stylist rummaged through a bag before returning in front of Wooyoung with what seemed like a ring.

“Okay, so I know you said you didn’t want to bring a momento into the arena-”

“-because I’ll be back soon enough and there won’t be enough time to make me homesick-”

“-but it would make me feel better if you brought something along with you,” Tertia finished before holding out the ring to him. “Just in case.”

Wooyoung took it in his hands and gasped slightly. The silver band had a carving of a flame as well as the words “Burn bright, Vulcan” on the inside.

“Thank you,” he whispered as he slid it onto this left hand.

“No, Wooyoung, thank you.”

He held his arms open and Wooyoung didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around the older man.

_ “10 seconds to launch.” _

“It’s time,” Tertia muttered, despite not letting go.

“Okay.”

Finally, the two of them parted and Wooyoung hated himself for having second thoughts now.

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he replied confidently. He walked towards the glass capsule and stepped in before he could do anything stupid like beg Tertia to take him back and allow him to hide in the security of the Capitol.

The capsule’s glass door closed and he turned to lock eyes with Tertia one last time, giving his stylist a self-assured nod. Despite knowing that he didn’t need wishes of good luck, he couldn’t help feeling a boost of confidence at Tertia’s proud smile.

The capsule then began to rise and the image of Tertia got lower and lower until he was no longer visible and Wooyoung was only surrounded by the view of concrete. It proceeded to be dark for a few more moments before bright light blinded him and he felt the glass wall disappear to leave him naked to the fresh air of the arena.

Wooyoung blinked several times until his surroundings became clear and he realised that they were in a clearing of a forest. It was sunny and the temperature was just right. He heard the natural sound of birds chirping and felt a slight breeze that rustled through the surrounding trees. 

All the tributes were arranged in a circle, facing inwards to the Cornucopia. The metallic structure housed many packs which were sure to contain appropriate items for survival. Some packs were spilled out on the ground, a few metres from the opening of the Cornucopia while others were neatly arranged on the inside with a selection of weapons available as well.

To his right and left were unfamiliar tributes. He quickly scanned the circle of people, all standing on identical platforms, and let out a sigh of relief when he locked eyes with Yeji. They were separated by several people and he gave her a small nod of confirmation in their initial plan of attack. He also made eye contact with several of the other Careers, receiving nods in return.

Turning towards the Cornucopia, he saw the countdown timer.

28, 27, 26

Like always, his eyes found their way to San and he wasn’t surprised when he saw the blonde already looking his way. Wooyoung could make out the faint hint of fear and it dawned upon him that not everyone here had received the same training as he had. Some kids had simply been thrown into this act of bloodshed, with absolutely no hope of surviving.

He knew the Capitol had always been some kind of fucked up but somehow he was only realising it now. Wooyoung hated himself, but he couldn’t throw away his years of training just like that. He knew what he had to do. They had entered the games now, after all. So Wooyoung's only objective was victory and anybody else was simply a nuisance.

Yet, an innate force within him was wanting to yell at San to run away once the timer was done. Run away as fast as he could and find water. Run to high ground and perhaps climb a few trees, a skill of his that Wooyoung had learnt. He knew the boy knew enough survival skills since he had practically lived at those stations during their training time. All he had to do was make sure that he stayed away from everyone else.

Something about San’s steel gaze told him that the boy wouldn’t heed his warnings.

4, 3, 2

Wooyoung turned back to the Cornucopia and narrowed his eyes as he leapt off his platform, eyes trained on the prize.

_ Let the Games begin. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading. feel free to leave comments about anything since that'll probably spur me to write faster and hence more updates. also, since i'm kinda lazy and unmotivated, i don't have a schedule cos i know i won't stick to it but updates should be at longest one every two weeks.
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/hyucksbible)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Blonde_. __
> 
> Wooyoung had never thought that he would be glad to see that obnoxious colour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys,, sorry that it's been basically a month since the last update when i said that updates should take max two weeks. the chapter was even meant to be longer than this but i figured that it was getting too long and it would delay the update even further. also thank you so much for the positive feedback on the last chapter. i really appreciated it.
> 
> also i realise that blonde san and black hair wooyoung are no longer with us but i will keep them alive with this fic. 
> 
> anyways hope you enjoy.

They had discussed a plan of action before the Games.

Eliminating as many as they can during the bloodbath. Weeding out the stronger districts first before setting up camp near the Cornucopia and wait for the weaker contestants to drop dead or test their luck against the might of the Careers. After that, if was every man for himself.

So that’s how the six Careers ended up with eight deaths on their hands within the first five minutes of the Games. 

Wooyoung stepped over the lifeless bodies and joined the others that were ravaging the remaining packs for all the supplies and collecting all of them into their own packs. When they had exhausted all of the items, he grabbed a spear lying around and stashed several knives into his pack as well as one in his jacket pocket in case of life and death situations. In any case, there was really no one he could trust in this arena.

They had set up their camp for the night — not too far from the clearing — and settling into sleep when they heard the news. By now, Wooyoung had grown accustomed to the resounding cannon and when the Fallen were shown the sky earlier that night, he had counted nine faces.

_ His _face hadn’t been there. Not that it had been important. The boy would probably end up dying soon enough and if not, Wooyoung would be sure to finish him off himself.

The faint crackle of speakers sounded through the arena, releasing him from his descent into slumber. The familiar voice of Kim Heechul quickly followed.

“Hello tributes,” he began, sounding way too happy for this time of night. “Well, it’s been a bloody first day, but that’s to be expected, am I right? Anyway, this is just a short announcement to alert you guys that there had been an alteration to the previous Games.”

Wooyoung perked up at this and made eye contact with Seonghwa, who looked back with the same level of confusion. They had both trained long hours for this moment of glory and it wasn’t going to be ruined by the Capitol in favour of causing more drama.

“One lucky tribute has been graced with the possession of a gun.”

He froze.

“Yes, you heard me right, tributes. A gun. Previously, all weapons had been archaic however we, in the Capitol, recognise a shift in growing technology these days and we are constantly looking to improve the Games each year. This was mainly done to be fairer to the poorer districts as some of you may know, there is not yet a female victor from District 12. No pressure for Jiwoo, that is. It’s also just to make the Games more interesting and more unpredictable, so be sure to give us a good show, tributes. And as always, may the odds be forever in your favour.”

The arena was plunged into silence again.

“Fucking bastards,” Seonghwa whispered.

Each one of them hurried to double check the contents of their bags, spilling the items onto the dirt. After several minutes, they all came back empty-handed and cursing the Gamemakers. 

“Fucking hell,” Mingi muttered. He was a tall lean male from District 4 who had surprised Wooyoung with his knowledge of forest flora. “This means there’s someone out there with a gun and they can kill any of us just like that. They’re really letting helpless kids get the upper hand. Fuck the Capitol.”

“You ain’t gonna get any sponsors with that attitude,” Ryujin snorted. 

Mingi glared at the girl from District 2. “Don’t need them. ‘M gonna win this on my own terms.”

Wooyoung sighed and settled back down against the somewhat soft undergrowth of the forest floor. “Shut up guys and get some sleep. There’s nothing we can do about it until the morning. We’ll hunt down everyone else, then” he said as he rolled over to block the sight of them and hoped that somehow the sound would be blocked out as well.

He heard the others grumble as they settled down as well and the girl from 4 took the first shift to keep watch.

  


Wooyoung was awakened to his first morning in the arena by a boot in his side and the unceremonious shouting of Seonghwa. 

“Get up, 1,” Seonghwa continued to shout as the rest of the group began packing up their supplies strewn out from the night before. “There’s still someone with a gun out there and I’m not letting years of fucking pain go to waste.”

Wooyoung would not have hesitated to fight him if it weren't for the score of ten that the other had received from the Gamemakers as well. Starting a fight between the Careers would also put a cog in their plan, and hence his own plan for securing his victory. He relented, despite his lingering drowsiness.

“Okay,” Seonghwa announced when they had all finished packing. The District 2 male had seemingly taken the lead in their pack of Careers and no one really protested considering that they all probably had their own plans on how to win. Leaders didn’t really matter in the end when your followers aren’t even a team. “Initially, I had planned to try and take out that guy from 12 because he’s gotta be a dark horse in these Games. He got an eleven for fuck’s sake. However, now we know that someone has a gun, so we’ve got another thing to think about.”

Everyone seemed to be deep in thought as they recalled the announcement. Wooyoung had not managed to sleep well last night, pondering the implications of the new amendment. The rest of them were probably in the same situation.

“So our best bet is to go out and find everyone else before they find us.”

Everyone turned to Wooyoung at hearing his plan. 

Seonghwa’s reminder of San brought back the blonde’s words at the training centre. _ Who says I ain’t gonna find you first? _ Now that Wooyoung knew just how much skill he must have been hiding, San presented a bigger danger than he had thought. It seemed likely that he could find the Careers and perhaps kill them all. Wooyoung needed to find him first and he would make it the last time they meet.

“If we don’t take action, they’ll probably target us first ,” he continued. “We can seek them out then take the gun for ourselves after we’ve killed them.”

“We don’t know how many bullets that thing has,” Yeji piped up “but I don’t think there would be that many. Perhaps we could wait it out until they use up their bullets on others.”

“What’s the point in waiting?”

“We can’t fight a gun with knives, Wooyoung,” Yeji sighed.

He turned to glare at her. “What? So are you just giving up now that they have a fucking gun? We can still win this but not with your attitude right now.”

In the back of his head, he was hearing Jackson’s voice telling him to not cause tension among the group this early on. He ignored it.

“I think Yeji’s right,” the girl from 4 — Nagyung — added. “We can’t rush into this like we planned because they can snipe us out from a distance. We’ve gotta be more careful now.”

“Well, lucky for us, we’re in a fucking forest.” Wooyoung was now raising his voice but he didn’t give a damn. “There are trees and shit to climb and hide behind.”

“They can do the exact same to us.”

“So what’s your fucking plan then?”

Uncontrollable heat courses through his body, looking for some sort of release, but the look on Seonghwa’s face immediately grounded him in the present. They were a team. They were stuck in a forest. Someone out there had a gun and one tribute from 12 presented a really big threat. 

They had to work together. For now.

His inner fire lessened.

“We perhaps wait around for a few days before attacking,” Yeji said. “They’ll probably be weakened by then and possibly have killed some people themselves.”

“So, you just want to essentially do nothing for a couple days?”

“We’re going to strategically plan this out properly later. Right now, I suggest we explore the arena a bit more and find some food.”

“Also, it would be a good idea to not set up camp in the clearing like we planned. If they’ve got a gun, that’s basically us committing suicide,” Seonghwa said.

“Damn, this whole thing is just a mess.”

  


Wooyoung tailed at the end of the ground as they entered further into the arena. They discovered that, for the most part, it was simply a thick ring of forest surrounding the clearing. In general, the area was pretty dense, with trees towering into the sky, providing much shade during the daylight hours. Their thick trunks obscured a clear view of the surroundings but did provide a lot of room for hiding.

They avoided the border, knowing there was not much point in being cornered on one side. Their main route of exploration involved entering deeper into the forest before turning to one side and simply going in a circle around the arena.

They were like fucking children going on a school excursion to a national park.

If it wasn't himself in the situation, Wooyoung would've laughed.

Two hours of walking through the forest found them at the edge of a river. It wasn’t too wide and didn’t seem very deep either.

“We’ll come back to fill up our bottles,” he said. “Let’s drop our stuff somewhere less exposed.”

They soon found somewhat of a small clearing, about five metres in diameter, ten minutes away from the river. Collectively, they dropped their bags and sank against several trunks. Wooyoung was fatigued but not completely drained and as he took in the sensations of a slight breeze and distant birds chirping, he felt strangely relaxed.

Relaxed was not a feeling he thought would’ve ever been associated with the Games.

“We’re going to go fill up our bottles now,” Mingi announced as he stood up with Ryujin and Nagyung following suit. Wooyoung passed him his bottle and the trio retraced their steps in search of the river.

There was a kick in his shin and he looked up to see Yeji’s inquiring face. “Wanna go look around for some food?”

He grabbed her outstretched hand as a response. 

“There’s probably going to be more food sources near running water so we should look near there,” he said as they walked towards the river as well. It wasn’t long before the sound of the river was audible and Wooyoung spied spots of colour amongst the greenery of the plants.

“Here,” he muttered as they approached the berries. 

Yeji immediately reached out to pick them off and stashed them into a small bag, when Wooyoung’s hand shot out. He leaned closer to the plant and racked his brain for any of the useful knowledge that he could remember from his countless hours sitting by the survival stations.

_ Berries are dangerous since some are harmless but some can cause death. Be aware of the unique appearance of each type so you are informed of the edible from the poisonous. _

The voice in his head morphed into another one, a bit lower in pitch with the telling presence of a smirk.

_ Ever heard of nightlock? It’s deadly and you’ll be gone before it’s even reached your stomach. I wouldn’t recommend touching any berries that are dark blue in colour. But of course, you probably don’t need my advice. You've been training for these Games for what now? Ten years? _

Wooyoung pushed the image of blonde hair and brown eyes into the back of his mind.

The berries that they had come across were bright red in colour and didn’t tick many boxes on the POISONOUS list. He was regretting not fully committing to memory the lectures from Jackson about foraging for food and if his mentor was watching him at this very moment, he was sure that the elder would be screaming his voice into early retirement.

He nodded and let Yeji continue to collect the berries, although he would be sure to avoid eating them unless absolutely necessary. They continued to find several more bushes whereupon berries were growing. Wooyoung was still wary of them, but he guessed that a last resort for nutrition might come in handy later on.

His eyes widened as he let out an internal sigh of relief when they came across a bush housing familiar berries. Huckleberries, he seemed to recall but he wasn't really sure. The name wasn't important though. What was important was that they were edible. Frankly, all the berries looked the same and these ones could have very easily been blueberries or chokeberries. He inspected closer and squeezed the fruit, hummed when he didn’t see the telltale sign of dark opaque liquid, indicating that it was not the poisonous kind.

_ Not nightlock. Take that, 12. _

They had only received meagre crackers and jerky in their packs, which they had decided to ration, so any source of refreshing flavour was welcomed readily. He handed some to Yeji and they both enjoyed the sweetness of fresh fruit which they had taken for granted back home.

Several more minutes found them further along the river, when they heard indistinct sounds of voices. They both stopped and turned to each other with matching sharp gazes. In their moments of fatigue and carelessness, they had forgotten to bring proper weapons with them. Wooyoung rushed to grab the knife stowed in his pocket and similar actions from Yeji told him that he hadn’t been the only one with that idea.

Together, they continued on, both on high alert and taking note of their entire surroundings. It was only a few seconds later when the voices became discernible and Wooyoung’s shoulders relaxed.

“Get up and fight if you’re serious about seeing your family again,” Mingi’s voice came through strong, seemingly taunting another weaker tribute.

A few more steps granted them the view of Mingi, Ryujin and Nagyung standing around another girl who had been pushed down and was now backed up against the edge of the river. They didn’t have any weapons but it seemed that they didn’t need them as Wooyoung saw the sharp sticks that rested within their hands. The girl on the ground had several shallow cuts on her arms and face. They were bright red, meaning they were fresh.

“Are you not gonna get up?” Ryujin’s cold laugh rang through the trees. “D’you give up already?”

“Bet you already said your goodbyes since you knew you were too weak for this,” Nagyung added. She smiled but nothing about her expression spoke of kindness.

Wooyoung took the first step to approach them.

“Did you guys think you could take down someone without us? Want us to miss out on the fun?”

The four of them turned to see the two District 1 tributes enter the scene.

“We don’t need five of us to get rid of this one,” Mingi answered as the two additions joined the group to observe the target. “Besides, she was in our way as we were collecting water. Just wanted to teach her a lesson.”

Wooyoung spied the pile of water bottles that had been filled up now, lying to the side.

“Well, how about you take the water back to our spot and leave this one to me?” he drawled, keeping his gaze on the weaker tribute and relished in the way her eyes widened further in terror. “Seonghwa’s probably getting impatient.”

“Hey, we found her fir—”

“You’ve had your fun.” Wooyoung fixed a piercing stare at the other. “D’you not learn to share?”

They engaged in a staring contest until Mingi huffed, turning to pick up the bottles and retreating back into the mass of trees. He heard faint mutters as the taller male left, probably vowing to kill the District 1 tribute in the near future. The two girls followed him, not without equally menacing stares though. 

Wooyoung felt movement on his side and turned to see Yeji returning to their camp as well. “I’ll let you have your fun now, Wooyoung,” she said, grinning. “We both know who’s gonna get the last laugh though.”

He returned her smirk before turning to take one last look at the female tribute in front of him. He took a few steps closer and crouched down, quickly pulling his knife out and holding it to her throat. She edged further away from him.

“Please,” she whispered. “Please, I-I’m sorry for being in the way. Please, just—”

“Just what? Just let you go? Just let you live?”

“Just make it quick.”

_What—_

Wooyoung drew back a bit and took the time to notice her downcast gaze and her arms struggling to hold her weight as she continued to lean away from him. He looked past her, at the water several metres below, and was suddenly filled with an all-too-familiar sensation.

_ Would you jump? _

She was holding her breath and Wooyoung was close enough to see the tears forming in her eyes. Despite being on the precipice above a river, she continued to lean back with her gaze glued upon the sharp tip of the knife edging closer.

He knew what he had to do. Everything was currently laid out for him and all he needed was to follow through with the final push. But something wasn’t right.

“You really aren’t gonna fight, huh?”

She snapped her head up and Wooyoung was slightly taken aback by the intensity of her gaze, only seconds away from letting the tears fall freely. 

“I never wanted this. I never wanted to be part of this and now I just want it all to end. If you’re gonna do, just make it quick, please.” Her words were nearly inaudible and he subconsciously leaned in further.

_ If I could, it would just make things so much easier. _

They remained like that for a few more seconds. He could only focus on the swirling remnants of dying hope that was left in her eyes, shadowed by her resignation to fate. She remained in front of him, asking for death, asking for mercy. He had always thought of these people as weak. 

Why give up so easily?

Why not fight with everything you’ve got to at least overcome your own self-doubt?

Wooyoung would’ve thought the girl before him to be weak however a familiar voice in his head made him rethink his perception.

_ Perhaps, if he weren’t as strong, he might have considered jumping as well. _

“What’s your name?”

The girl blinked. “Huh?”

“I said, what’s your name?”

“Yoojung. Choi Yoojung.”

He mentally scoffed. Even the name was too familiar.

“Yoojung, go.”

It was only after he had said the words that he realised what he was doing, but for once, it felt right. 

Her eyes grew wide once again. “What?”

Wooyoung sighed as he stood up and took a step back. “I’m not saying it again. Go. Killing you is pointless if you don’t even want to live.”

She continued to stare at him before her brain processed the message and she hurriedly stood up and took off without another glance. Wooyoung stared after her figure, long after she had disappeared from sight, and let out a long sigh.

_ What was he doing? _

Only yesterday, he had killed three tributes as part of the bloodbath and he had done it without guilt and regret. However, looking at the girl’s face brimming with pure terror, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He didn’t want to know what her face looked like as the colour slowly drained and the vibrant life in her eyes was put out, like a lively flame doused too early.

He had learned how to kill others from a young age, with knives, spears, rope, his hands. He had known killing wasn’t right but he hadn’t felt remorse, knowing that in the case of the Games, people had to die and if it wasn’t them, it would be him. Twenty-three have to die so that one survives. He had been prepared for being the face of death in the arena, razing through tributes with his loyal scythe.

Except he hadn’t.

All of his knife slices and fatal punches had only ever been pulled on dummies, meaning he had never seen the struggle and desperation that paints itself upon one’s face when confronted with the reality of death.

He wondered whether he would’ve brought an end to those three tributes if he had seen their faces as well.

He didn’t see Yoojung’s face in the sky that night. Instead, there were two others which he didn’t recognise however that meant that there were only thirteen of them remaining.

His looming victory was the second thought that came to his mind. The first was that he hoped that the girl was alright.

They continued to lay low for the next few days, simply watching the faces of the Fallen appear in the night sky. His urge to do something grew but he bit it down every time. It was only a matter of time before the urge would bite back harder.

As part of their rotation of group roles, he was sent to refill their water bottles one morning. Arriving at the edge of the river, he stopped at the area where he had nearly killed Yoojung. Looking towards the river, he heard the words again. _Would you ju—_ Instead, he climbed down carefully to the water and began his task.

Suddenly, he heard the distinct sound of dead leaves rustling and immediately stiffened. From his crouching position, he observed his peripheral and listened closely. There was a small movement to his left, above him on the other side of the river. Judging from the slow movements, they had probably caught sight of him and were either trying to get into a good position for a kill or slowly back their way out of a confrontation.

His mind immediately went to the thought of “_ gun _” and his hand itched for his jacket pocket.

He hated how everyone now posed a threat. If this were any of the previous Games, he wouldn’t have hesitated to throw his weapon and embed it in the other’s chest. However, now, that wasn’t the best option.

Instead, he remained still with his eyes trained on the water. There was a possibility that the person could simply pull the trigger and Wooyoung could say goodbye forever. Any sudden movements were dangerous so they began a game of how long can one resist the urge to _ do _something.

With slow movements, he continued filling the water bottles and when that was done, he simply crouched before the water, ears trained on any subtle sounds. It was after five minutes when he heard a loud crunching from behind him and he abandoned all thought to pull out the knife and turn around, ready to pounce.

The smirk and raised brow of Seonghwa greeted him and he let out a large sigh.

“I was just coming to check up on you,” the District 2 male said as he joined him at the river’s edge, arms held out in a placating manner. “Don’t tell me you’re turning your back on us this early.”

Immediately, his mind went back to the tribute on the other side but he was too late. The figure clad in black had disappeared and he felt relieved and disappointed at the same time. Seonghwa followed his line of sight.

“What is it?”

“There was someone there, I think. I’m not sure who it was but it could’ve been the gun person. I didn’t want to cause any alarm so I was just waiting it out. When you came, I think they disappeared.”

Seonghwa nudged him, eyes forward and alert now. “Let’s go then.”

“Huh? You wanna go after them?”

Seonghwa looked at him in exasperation. “Come on, dude. I know those other Careers decided that we should lay low for now but I agree with you that we gotta start taking action. If we don’t find them, they’re gonna find us and since everyone’s a threat, it just makes it more worthwhile. It’s been four days already, for fuck’s sake.”

He stared at him for a while before Wooyoung remembered that he had initially wanted to charge straight after the others. He had realised that it hadn’t been the best idea, but hearing it from Seonghwa now, he was beginning to see its merit.

He nodded and they both smiled. 

“Okay, let’s go.”

After they managed to cross the river without much struggle, they climbed the wall of rocks on the other side, scanning the view carefully for any movement. Careful steps were punctuated with the sharp crackling of leaves underneath their feet. At one point, Wooyoung bumped into an overgrown bush, causing several birds to loudly screech while making an escape. After that, they gave up on keeping quiet and decidedly marched through the forest.

Wooyoung was beginning to think that their pursuit was useless when sudden crunching from a few metres to the side caught his attention. They had been walking for a good twenty minutes so a good fight was gladly welcomed.

A knife was thrown in their direction and Wooyoung narrowly dodged it, searching fervently for the attacker. Suddenly, a weight fell on top of him and he was pushed to the ground. The person’s weight remained on top of him as they scrambled to raise a fist. Before their fist could make contact with his face, however, Wooyoung grabbed whatever limb he could and dragged them off. He hurried to his feet and didn’t hesitate to ball his own hands into fists and swing at the unfamiliar figure.

The first thing that he noticed was that the person didn’t have blonde hair. Wooyoung wouldn’t admit it to anyone but he had watched intently each night the faces of the Fallen, searching for one face in particular. He hadn’t shown up yet, which meant that the boy was still out there. He couldn’t figure out how he felt about it but for now, he pushed those thoughts away.

It turned out that the attack was weaker than he had seemed with his initial surprise as it only took two punches until he surrendered and stopped fighting back. Wooyoung stood back to watch the fruitless struggle, like a bird with broken wings that was desperate to see the sky once again. 

“You got some nerve to take on two Careers, mate,” Seonghwa sneered. “Should’ve known you were walking into your own grave.”

“Doesn’t matter,” the boy wheezed out. “Was gonna die anyway. You guys just made it easier.” He shut his eyes for a few moments before opening them in a menacing glare. “You better start running if you don’t wanna get caught up in it either.”

“The fuck are you on about?”

“It's coming. The fire.”

If Wooyoung hadn’t been paying attention, he would have missed the words. A stream of questions formed in his head however it seemed that he wouldn’t be getting the answer anytime soon.

In the distance, a cannon boomed.

  


It didn’t take them long to find the fire. Or more like, for the fire to find them.

As they had tried to make their way back to the river, they realised they had been so focused upon finding the lone tribute that their path hadn’t been a clear one. Walking directly backwards proved to lead them further into the forest, unfamiliar trees becoming the lamp posts that guided their improvised tour, leading them down the wrong path.

“I don’t hear any sounds of the river,” Seonghwa sighed. “We’re literally walking further away with every step we take.”

“Better than staying still, though.”

Wooyoung could practically hear Seonghwa roll his eyes. “Well, duh,” the District 2 tribute muttered.

“Then stop complaining about going in the wrong direction. We’re doing the best we can.”

“I know that,” the taller male replied. “And I wasn’t complaining. Just a comment.”

“If you’re gonna comment on something, at least make it useful,” Wooyoung muttered while sweeping his gaze from left to right as they continued to traverse unknown territory.

Seonghwa was in the process of saying something, probably irrelevant once again, when another sound became prominent and Wooyoung signalled for the other to be quiet. It was a collective rustling, as if a whole army of tributes were approaching however the sound was much too soft to have been the case. 

Suddenly, a rush of heat passed by them, inches away from their faces, and Wooyoung followed the catapulting sound to see that a ball of fire that had been thrown in their direction. It hit a neighbouring tree, causing the entire tree to instantly light up and start burning. He whipped his head around in the direction that the fire had come from to see yet another one hurtling towards him. 

Instinctively, he threw himself to the side, landing awkwardly against the uneven ground as he watched another tree be victim to hungry flames. He noticed too late that the fire had spread quickly, having spread down the trees and now eating away at the dried leaves and sticks upon the forest floor. 

He turned to run in the opposite direction of the spreading fire, any way to get him free from imminent danger. However, he was met with growing flames on both sides and it was when a burning branch fell directly in front of him, catalysing a bigger flame, that he realised that he was stuck.

He was suddenly reminded of the words of his recent kill and it dawned upon him that this situation may be bigger than it already seemed.

The sounds of burning were loud in his ears and quick scans of his remaining surroundings told him that, amongst the mess, he had been separated from Seonghwa. He was alone.

If he didn’t do anything now, he was going to burn like everything around him but _ no _, Wooyoung wasn’t meant to die like this. He took a deep breath and charged quickly through a small gap in the flames. As he did, he felt the singe of heat against his cheeks and his eyes began to water with the surrounding smoke. He coughed at the heavy air entering his throat, causing him to keel over. 

It hurt to breathe and it hurt to move. He wanted to scream but that would hurt too.

He thought back to his countless hours of training and didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or cry. He knew how to take down opponents — people and animals. He knew how to endure the pain of cuts and stabs and he had worked up the stamina of running away from dangers longer than most people.

He couldn’t, however, take down a fucking forest fire.

No longer being able to see properly through the flashes of flame and thickening smoke, he blindly ran. He knocked into trees and tripped several times over hidden bushes but it seemed that no matter where he went, he was getting nowhere. 

He hadn’t realised that he had been stumbling around with his eyes closed until his head collided with a rough surface and he blinked his eyes open to see that it was the uneven bark of a tree. Despite the licking flames all around, he turned around to lean against the trunk, panting heavily and wishing that he could be transported back to the river from this morning.

Opening his eyes, he saw another fireball approaching amidst the mass of orange, yellow and white and his instincts kicked in once again.

“For fuck's sake,” he muttered while hurriedly rolling to the side. He stayed on the ground, breathing in slightly cleaner air, before realising that there were flames only centimetres away. His brain yelled at him to get up, however his body could barely support him as he clumsily regained balance and stood up.

Surveying the area of flames and burnt trees, he saw no escape. The spreading fire was met with no resistance and it didn’t look like the fireballs were gonna slow down anytime soon.

A sudden whistling got his attention and he darted sideways once again. However, it had been a sharp sound, unlike the fireball’s heavy one and he turned to see that an arrow had been shot at the tree’s trunk, right next to where his head had been. His eyes widened at the prospect of another danger being piled upon this burning mess until he saw the clean cloth that had been tied to the end of the arrow. Too clean to be a coincidence.

Blindly and desperately trusting this stroke of luck, he quickly pulled the arrow out of the burnt bark and wrapped the cloth around his lower face, just below his eyes. Without another thought, he braved the scorching heat and ran forcefully through the mass of flames.

He wasn’t going to die now. God of fire sounded like a stupid title at times like this but he was sure that Tertia would be damn disappointed if he didn’t live up to it now.

As he continued to run through the smoke and trees, he felt the air becoming cooler and he continued to run. One of the trainers at the academy had taught him that when fighting an army of enemies, the only way out is through. So, by the same logic, the fire simply represented a mass of obstacles and Wooyoung could only escape by forcing his way through the hungry flames.

The flames soon thinned out until there was no more smoke and he could finally breathe. Suddenly, a burning trunk fell before him, effectively blocking his path and setting the leaves around it on fire. Flames grew higher and he keeled over, coughing violently. He backed up quickly, heat drawing near, and he found himself back at square one. 

Everything around him was burning and if he stood here any longer, he would burn along with it.

He would die along with it.

But he wasn’t going to.

The flames in front of him had now grown to a size much bigger, making it impossible to simply go forward. Looking up, he realised that several other branches had fallen as well, although they remained trapped above, upon the twisted branches of forest canopy. He also noticed that some trees must have had thick bark since the flames remained near the base of the trunk.

Working completely on desperate instinct, he picked a suitable tree before reaching up to stab the arrow into the trunk. He was grateful for the arduous strength training that the academy trainers had forced him to do as he pulled himself up to reach for a nearby branch. He then grabbed onto another branch to pull himself even higher. Stretching up once again, he implanted the arrow into the trunk and pulled himself up before realising that the next branch was too high and he no longer had any other purchase.

His eyes widened as he felt no resistance underneath his feet. The way that his right hand shook while clinging onto the arrow — his only support — made him realise that falling was very probable. Just as he was about to lose his balance and risk falling back down the tree, another arrow embedded itself just above his hand and he gripped onto it desperately.

_ Who the fuck— _

Wooyoung whipped his head around to search for whoever was responsible but the sight of land several metres below him reminded him that he had another task at hand first. Pushing other thoughts away, he continued to climb until he reached a thicker branch.

From where he stood, there was a trapped branch a few metres in front. With the threatening prospect of hungry flames, Wooyoung didn’t hesitate to leap from his branch, stabbing an arrow into the bark and consequently propelling himself forward, over the burning trunk on the ground.

It was then that he realised that he had probably climbed to a height of six metres and now he was free falling.

He was falling. And possibly starting to realise that he didn’t have a plan in terms of landing.

The ground hurtled towards him and he only reach his arms out, slightly bent, to cushion his impact as his body collided with the hard dirt. He rolled several times until all momentum had been exhausted and he lay panting on the ground. 

His shoulder had taken a lot of the impact and a sharp pain flared up in his right side. There was the distinct taste of blood in his mouth and he could definitely feel a sticky liquid dripping down his forehead.

The ever present rustling of flames registered in his ears and he reluctantly forced himself to stand, breaking out into a half-run-half-limp as he attempted to put as much distance between him and the fire as possible.

After an entire minute, the sounds died down and he noticed the distinct lack of fireballs being thrown. Deeming himself safe, for now, he rested his hands upon his knees and finally let his body breathe.

He heaved in deep breaths, the clean air clearing his lungs and his mind. There was a slight ringing in his ears, probably from when he had hit his head, and his lungs burned with every breath. But at least he was no longer surrounded by fire. Looking back, his eyes widened at the sheer scale of the fire that he hadn’t realised he had been caught in.

Suddenly, there was a dull thud and Wooyoung focused to see an arrow implanted into the ground, right next to his feet. He snapped his neck up, searching the mass of tree trunks for a sign of somebody, _ anybody _, until his gaze drifted upwards and he saw him.

_ Blonde _. 

Wooyoung had never thought that he would be glad to see that obnoxious colour.

“Get moving, Jung.”

Wooyoung stared incredulously at the boy hidden in the camouflage of branches. He spied a bow in his hands.

“Did you shoot those arrows?” he panted, in between heavy breaths. His voice was wrecked and his throat burned with every syllable. He dropped his head back down to catch his breath and winced at the pain everywhere.

“Yeah, smartass,” San replied as he carefully made his way down the tree to eventually stand only a few metres away from his on the ground. “Come on. We gotta keep on moving before it spreads anymore. We don’t know when they’re gonna stop shooting those goddamn fireballs”

The blonde boy began to trudge forward, away from Wooyoung, and he could only watch as the other’s figure grew slightly smaller. He was unable to move, too caught up in his body and everything still burning and scorching his skin.

“Wait,” he breathed heavily and his lungs were screaming as every breath felt like pure fire. “I can’t—”

San turned around and Wooyoung could guess that he looked just as bad as he felt considering the instant look of concern that flashed over his face.

“Oh my god,” he muttered as he walked back and allowed Wooyoung to lean upon him as he dragged both of them through the burning forest. 

Wooyoung was vaguely aware that the air had grown cooler after a few minutes, his body feeling less hot, and soon, the crackling of flames had disappeared altogether to give way only to their feet stomping across broken branches and scattered leaves. The overwhelming desire to simply close his eyes and shut down was eventually too much and the last thing he recalled was the soft thud of his head resting upon a comfortable shoulder.

  


He woke in darkness. Well, not complete darkness, because as he blinked a few more times, he noticed light streaming in from somewhere. When he sat up, he noted that he was in somewhat of a cave which an entrance nearby, providing the only form of light.

The burn in his throat and lungs was still present and it was an instant reminder of recent events.

He tried to sit up but immediately was overwhelmed by dizziness. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to ground himself but the sensation of the entire world spinning remained. Instead, he simply lay back down and let himself be carried back to the state of unconsciousness.

The second time he woke up, there was a faint noise that alerted him of someone else’s presence. Slowly blinking his eyes open, he turned to the side to see San sitting on the other side of the small cave, only a few metres away, with another boy laying down and head in San’s lap.

“Who’s that?” His voice was hoarse, throat burning with the short syllables, and Wooyoung barely understood the words himself.

“His name’s Yunho,” San replied as he busied himself with holding the boy’s head up as he gently let him drink from a bottle. “District 7.”

As Wooyoung gradually sat up — head feeling alright this time — and was able to see more clearly, he saw that the boy was more than half unconscious, only managing to take a few sips before he groaned and laid down again. 

“Why?”

San gave him a small but sad smile. “He got burnt at the beginning of the fire and unfortunately, we had no medicine until it was too late. I know he’s dying and there’s really no point in caring for him anymore. But I’ll feel worse knowing that he died while I just watched him, you know?”

“You know, the goal is to kill everyone in here. That’s the only way that you’re going to get out.”

“I’m not a killer.”

It reminded him of what San said on the rooftop. He felt bad when he had watched other tributes get hurt, wishing too late he had taken their place. At least, he now knew that San had been telling something of the truth.

“I think today might be his last,” San whispered. “He got pretty beaten up by the fire.”

Wooyoung properly observed the dying boy. He seemed tall, with long legs that required to be crossed in the small capacity of the cave. “Guess I got kinda lucky yesterday, then.”

San’s head snapped up with furrowed eyebrows on display. “Yesterday? Wooyoung, you’ve been out for two days.” The blonde male nodded towards his limbs and Wooyoung looked down to see that they had all been covered with large leaves. “I’ve changed your leaves each day so you don’t have to worry about any infections.”

He took some time to understand his words but inevitably ignored them since they held too many implications. Instead, he simply looked up to stare at the other tribute, still attending to Yunho by cleaning any cuts with a cloth. 

“Thank you,” he whispered which San acknowledged with a small smile.

“Honestly Wooyoung, you were anything but lucky,” the other boy said. “I guess the Capitol thought it might be entertaining to put a Career through a fucktonne of obstacles and I don’t know how much you remember but you basically had fire being shot at you on all fronts and somehow you still made it out alive. You ran through the fire straight on and then you did this swing thing with the arrow to jump over the branch. It was pretty badass.”

He grew more amused as San continued to reenact his escape from the fire and before he realised, they were both laughing. As a comfortable silence began to fall again, he spied the large bow near the entrance.

“So, you can shoot, huh?”

San’s face split into a guilty grin and he shrugged. “Didn’t expect that, did you?”

“You’ve gotta show me sometime. Wanna see how good of a shot you are.”

“I’m not sure if you hit your head too hard that you forgot, but I was the one shooting those arrows to you while you were stuck in that fire. I’d say my aim isn’t too bad.”

“Well, I need to see up close. Could’ve been a fluke.”

“Oh, sure,” San laughed. “I guess I really forgot how annoying you were.”

“It’s only been like a week. Are you the one who hit their head too hard?”

“I may have sacrificed a few brain cells in order to stay alive.”

Wooyoung scoffed. “Just don’t sacrifice your arms or you’re dead meat.”

San leveled his gaze. “Cut my arms off and you’ll see how creative I can get with a bow.”

Wooyoung didn’t know if he was intimidated or intrigued.

  


San soon treated Wooyoung’s burns and cuts with a cream that stung but definitely reduced the inflammation and redness quickly. He also gave him some kind of liquid to drink which soon alleviated the pain in his throat. “_ Sponsors _,” the blonde had replied with when Wooyoung gave the unfamiliar substance a wary look. He blinked and realised that he had completely forgotten about that aspect of the Games since he had yet to receive a gift.

“Damn, what did you do to win over the Capitol?”

San tilted his head. “What do you mean?”

“Well, if they’re sending you gifts, then they must like you.”

The blonde seemed to think about it for a few seconds before shrugging. “Haven’t really done much. Guess I’m just lucky, then. Maybe my good luck can rub off on you now so you can receive gifts too.”

Unfortunately, Wooyoung wasn’t that lucky because they soon left to look for food and he tripped only five minutes into their hunt, which left him sprawling across the dirt and leaves of the forest floor. Instead of winning over the Capitol, he had only managed to graze his skin lightly and make himself look like a clumsy fool.

“I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt and just say that you’re still disoriented from being out of it for two days.”

Wooyoung looked up at the outstretched hand and internally scowled at the face that greeted him. He pushed himself onto his feet, wincing slightly through the pain, and pointedly ignoring San’s hand.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” he mumbled as he brushed off the dirt from his pants.

“Well, you’re one of the stronger competitors,” San answered with a bright grin, which only pissed Wooyoung off even more. “Gotta have you on my good side.”

“I don’t have a good side.”

Wooyoung began to look around, searching for any indication of the other Careers’ location. He needed a plan of getting out of here and finding them again because god forbid he stay with this supposed rescuer and healer forever.

He looked at the boy in question who had crouched down to collect several leaves for whatever reason. Wooyoung found that no matter how much time he spent with the other, he never got closer to discovering who he truly was.

_ Who was Choi San? _

The blonde boy was humming an unfamiliar tune and it was only when Wooyoung wished he could see the boy’s calm expression that he realised that San was turned away from him. As in, he had his back to him, carefully picking leaves and berries, and he couldn’t see him.

As in, there was nothing stopping Wooyoung from running away right this moment.

They were in an area with sparse trees and Wooyoung could see that they were the only two people around this area for several metres out. Well, except for the dying boy in the cave.

He could just— 

“What are you thinking about?”

Despite himself, he jumped slightly and whipped around to see the signature amused smirk of San. He met the grinning eyes with a glare of his own. “Nothing.”

“Well, if you’ve got nothing else to do, you can make yourself useful by carrying a bunch of medium-sized sticks back to camp.”

Before he could react, San dumped a couple sticks into his arms and Wooyoung watched his retreating figure head back to the cave. He supposed that the other tribute did have medicine and he was still currently healing so it would be best to rest for a few more days. With his previous thoughts completely wiped, he knelt down to collect several more sticks and followed the path back the way they came.

Climbing back into the darkness of the cave, Wooyoung was greeted with the sight of San leaning over the unconscious tribute. Two of the blonde’s fingers were pressed against Yunho’s neck and San’s eyes were intensely trained upon his face.

“Not much time left,” San whispered when he noticed Wooyoung’s presence.

It was less than ten minutes later that they heard the familiar cannon in the distance and Yunho’s shallow breathing could no longer be heard. Somehow, the air around them felt colder and Wooyoung subconsciously shivered. It didn’t feel right to break the silence, so he opted to aimlessly study the cracks and bumps in the cave walls.

A short gasp reminded him that was indeed not alone. He closed his eyes but quickly shot them open again when successive gasps sounded, gaining in volume until he looked over to realise that... 

...San was crying.

“Huh—”

He started upright and instinctively froze, watching the boy opposite him openly weep.

The last time he had seen someone break down was when a girl had been scolded by the trainers for arriving ten minutes late. They had found out that she had gone out to meet someone the night before, returning very late, and consequently she was kicked out of the academy.

That was seven years ago. 

“San, are you—”

His whisper was broken by a new wave of sobs that wracked the body of the blonde and he could only stare in silence. 

Not only had Wooyoung never been witness to showcases of extreme sadness, but displays of emotion had rarely come by him. For years, he had been surrounded by people like him, wanting to compete in the Games and conquer all bloodshed to bring honour to their district. Winning meant killing and killing meant no feelings involved.

Seeing San’s current state was completely unworldly. 

“San,” he started again. “Are you alright?”

His words fell flat as he realised that _ no, of course he wasn’t alright _. But the words seemed to have some effect when San raised his head and gave the slightest shake of his head. His breath was halted at the pure emotion running through the other’s entire expression and Wooyoung compulsively shuffled towards him.

Once he was in reach, he felt the entire weight of San fall into his body and they both fell against the floor. Wooyoung adjusted his body so that he was sitting and he rested the other’s head against his chest. San was facing away from him, but he could feel the convulsions of his chest as he wrapped his arms around the blonde’s figure.

Several minutes passed and it was only when San finally shifted slightly that Wooyoung realised he had been carding his fingers through his blonde hair — hair that he had come to hate but love ever so slightly._ It was soft _.

“I should get some flowers,” San whispered as he shakily stood up, immediately heading towards the entrance. 

“Wait,” Wooyoung started, also standing up and rushing to follow the boy. “What do you mean, flowers?”

San nodded towards the third boy, now lying peacefully in the darkness of the cave. “He’s gotta have a nice resting place, right?”

They didn’t have to look far to find flowers. 

“I’ve been camping out at this place for a couple days so I know my way around this part of the arena,” San explained. “I’m surprised that no one’s really stumbled upon this part of the arena.”

“Do you have a plan for what happens if people do find this place?”

“Run.”

Wooyoung looked up after a few moments of silence. “Not gonna grab your bow first?”

San grinned. “I’ll survive.”

Back in the cave, San busied himself with brushing Yunho’s hair back and wiping his forehead with a cloth. 

“Damn, were you some kinda housewife back home?”

San didn’t turn to face him but Wooyoung could see his expression morph into confusion. “What the fuck,” was his only reply.

“Maybe a single mother of five,” Wooyoung mused as San then arranged Yunho’s clothes to get rid of any creases before gathering the boy and throwing him over his shoulder. They then trudged back to where they had left their flowers in a small clearing enough for the tall boy to rest in peace.

“Do you want help?” Wooyoung offered. He had been watching the boy for a while as he dragged the lifeless tribute who was definitely taller and heavier. To say that he was struggling would have been a slight understatement.

San looked up with raised brows and tilted his head slightly. “Are you sure it wouldn’t deter you from your killing duties, O Revered Career?”

Wooyoung could admit that the blonde’s rendition of some dramatic monologue was comical but he managed to school his features into indifference as he rolled his eyes. “Don’t pretend that you aren’t about to collapse, 12. Your acting skills aren’t that good.”

Taking the other’s silence as agreement, Wooyoung joined the blonde in transporting the body to the prepared array of leaves and flowers. They carefully laid Yunho down and Wooyoung found himself being glad that the boy was able to look peaceful one last time.

“I still don’t understand why this is necessary,” he muttered. “I mean, he was practically put in this arena to die. Why are you making this such a big deal when literally twenty other people in here are gonna suffer the same fate? Are you gonna do some fancy burial for every fucking tribute? Have you already planned the flower arrangements for me? I mean—” 

“Wooyoung,” San cut in and he immediately stopped his tirade. “You know, you’re free to leave, right? If you’re just gonna get annoyed at what I do, then it’s probably best if you’re not around.”

Wooyoung shook his head. “I’m not gonna leave, dumbass. I just don’t get it. Why waste your time on this when you’re supposed to be trying to survive?”

“We’re two very different people, if you haven’t realised already. You’re a Career and I’m just another helpless sacrifice from 12. I don’t expect you to understand—”

“Then help me understand. Why are you—”

“Because no one here deserves to be part of some orchestrated game by the Capitol,” San said, now levelling the Career with a sharp glower of his own. “The people on top act as if everyone here is just another life to take away, just a prop in their grand gesture of mass homicide.”

The blonde stepped closer and it seemed that Wooyoung’s brain decided now was a good time to acknowledge that San was more attractive than most people he had met in his life.

Wooyoung had gotten good at ignoring that part of his brain.

“I’m doing this so they know that this boy — this kid — has family and friends out there that are gonna be crying over his death. Because his life did matter, as do all the other tributes but I’m only one person and I can’t help everybody. I know I can’t but I’ll try my hardest to help the people I can.”

The gazes were level with each other and Wooyoung could practically see the fire and determination brimming in the other’s eyes. He felt the flames in his chest burn brighter than they had in a while.

“I’ve told you before that I wished that I could’ve at least helped the kids who got chosen in the past,” San continued and suddenly Wooyoung was back on the rooftop, a cool breeze breaking through the warmth of his jacket. “This is my chance to help people.”

Behind the pain and suffering, he could sense an uncovered vigour within the other boy, one that matched his own.

“You know, I think I like you all fired up, blondie,” he said, breaking out into a smirk and not allowing his stare to relinquish. San’s expression of exasperation was worth it.

“Did you listen to a single thing that I just said?”

“Sure.”

With that, Wooyoung turned back to head back to the cave.

  


“Hey Wooyoung, can you pass me my bow?”

He perked up to see the blonde at the cave’s entrance who was currently busy with tightening his shoelaces.

“Am I finally getting the opportunity to see you in action?”

“If you tag along, sure.”

San’s pace was quick and Wooyoung realised just how out of it he had been for the past few days. For a second, he had forgotten his position as a Career — the late nights and early mornings of intense training. Falling back into routine felt like coming home.

“What’s the rush?”

  
“We gotta find food quickly,” San’s replied, not allowing his pace to decrease. It was now afternoon, meaning that darkness could fall anytime, and after several days of staying primarily in the cave, they had run out of food.

They passed the clearing where they had laid down the tribute of District 7 two days ago, both sparing a glance towards it. It was now empty there but their arrangement of flowers remained, outlining the body of the tall boy. Wooyoung thought about how he never really gotten to know the boy and after hearing San’s stories about him, he wished he could see his face one last time.

The night following Yunho’s death had been an emotional affair. It turned out that the several days San had spent nursing the boy allowed for many conversations between them. Wooyoung heard all about the pair of them cursing the Capitol to hell and back as well as other conversations surrounding their lives back home. In their midst of San's recount of Yunho and brother, they had moved to sit outside while the sky lit up with the Fallen’s faces, Yunho and one other boy. It ended with the blonde in tears and it had been the first time Wooyoung had felt compelled to cry.

Not that he actually did. 

Yesterday, San had spent the majority of the day continuing to mourn. The blonde hadn’t moved from his position since waking up and Wooyoung saw no point leaving the cave, especially because he was still recovering himself.

“You’re not gonna leave?”

Wooyoung had been snapped out of his reverie as San broke the silence with only a whisper. It was too dark to see anything clearly but he was always aware of the other's presence.

“Huh?”

“Yesterday, I said that you could leave if you were just gonna bitch about me caring about the other tributes and you said that you weren’t gonna do that,” San croaked. “I don’t get it. Why would you bother sticking around? Don’t you have people to kill?”

“If I wanted to kill someone, I could just kill you.”

That caused San’s eyes to widen a bit but he didn’t falter.

“Why haven’t you?”

It took Wooyoung a while before he was able to answer. “I don’t know.”

They maintained eye contact for several minutes, which was then broken due to San yawning. It was a little endearing.

“Get some sleep, San. You’ve had a long day.”

He had thought that San had fallen asleep when silence ensued during the following minutes however it turned out to not be the case when he felt a body sidle up next to him. A weight rested upon his shoulder and he blinked his eyes open to see the top of the blonde’s head directly to his right.

It reminded him of when he would hang out at Yeosang’s place watching movies and they would huddle on the couch, always ending up falling asleep before the movies finished. 

It reminded him of home.

Suddenly, a force against his chest halted his trajectory. Wooyoung was pulled back to the present and he glanced at the blonde to see that he had one arm held out to block Wooyoung's movement and was holding a finger up to his mouth as he kept his gaze forward.

“Bingo.”

From the corner of his eye, he saw quick movement and he caught the telltale fur of a rabbit in the distance before it ducked behind a bush. Silently, San drew out his bow as they shuffled towards the shelter of a tree trunk.

“Need to get a bit closer, hotshot?”

“Don’t underestimate me, brat,” San whispered, eyes still trained on the animal. 

The rabbit was at least a good thirty metres away. He watched as San lined up an arrow before pulling back the bow string. They waited in silence until a slight rustle came from the bushes. Wooyoung only saw the rabbit poke its head out for a second before seeing it fall soundlessly to the ground, arrow protruding from his chest.

He stayed there for a few more seconds, simply staring at the now lifeless animal, before snapping back to see the self-satisfied face of District 12’s tribute. 

“Bet you couldn’t do that with a knife.”

He was in the process of removing the rabbit’s meat from the bones back at their “camp” when a large clatter sounded from outside. Approaching the entrance, he saw that San had collected a large pile of small twigs and had unceremoniously dumped them on the ground.

“What are all the sticks for?”

“To make a fire, dumbass.”

Wooyoung’s brows furrowed. “But isn’t a fire gonna attract attention. ‘Cos like smoke and all.”

“You clearly didn’t learn how to make a good fire, then.” San shook his head. “Did you really spend all that time at the survival stations to learn absolutely nothing? Besides, how else are we gonna eat this meat?”

“Well, don’t blame me for not learning anything,” Wooyoung grumbled. “Kept seeing your stupid face whenever I thought about it, so I couldn’t remember shit.”

The following silence made him realise that the thought had sounded less weird in his head.

“Wow, obsessive much,” the blonde scoffed and Wooyoung simply replied with a half-assed punch.

It turned out that San had dug a hole in the ground wherein he had then started a fire using only dry small twigs and kindling to significantly reduce the amount of smoke produced. A second hole allowed oxygen to enter and fuel the flames. “It also protects it from the wind,” San had explained smugly. 

Wooyoung spent some time staring at it. _ Why didn’t they teach us things like this back home? _

The meat was hoisted above the fire and it quickly began to cook. Soon, the smell became tempting but Wooyoung forced himself to remain on guard, scanning the forest in all directions for any movement.

“Sit,” the blonde instructed and Wooyoung jumped at the sudden voice behind him. Before he realised it, Wooyoung found himself walked over to the fire and complying. He was instantly comforted by the radiating heat and felt his gaze being drawn to the flickering flames, watching them dance and grow brighter. _ When had it gotten so dark? _

“Hey,” the blonde called out, clicking his fingers for extra effect. “Eat up.”

He looked down to see that San had set down several pieces of rabbit meat in front of him and several different kinds of leaves that resembled cabbage. After a few moments of hesitation, he lifted the food to his mouth.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t poison it.”

Wooyoung’s eyes widened as he kept his gaze trained on the food. It came as a slow realisation upon him that the thought of the other having ill intent towards him hadn’t even crossed his mind. They were part of the Hunger Games and Wooyoung had entered with the intention of killing everyone without remorse. Most other people in here were probably thinking the same. However, when he looked up to see the other male contently digging into his food, he didn’t feel threatened by any imminent danger.

He didn’t know when it started but San no longer presented a threat. Or as prey.

He trusted San.

“I mean, I wouldn’t put it past you. Can't trust anyone in here,” Wooyoung shrugged, smirking at San from across the fire.

“Nah, can’t get rid of you just yet. Need you to fight off the bad guys for me.”

Wooyoung scoffed. “I knew there were ulterior motives.”

They quickly extinguished the fire after they had finished, not wanting to attract any tributes that had decided to go tribute hunting in the late hours of the evening. One more boy had died that day, but Wooyoung had lost track of the number of the Fallen. The night air was warm that night so they decided to sleep outside, making sure to choose a location that was discreet. 

Huddled together at night, under a cloak of darkness that he could only hope hid them from the cameras, Wooyoung wrapped his blankets around the other boy and sidled closer. _ To keep them both warm _, he said to himself.

“Get some sleep, San. I’ll wake you up when it’s your turn to watch.”

San relaxed a little more as he got into a more comfortable position and Wooyoung waited patiently until he heard the telltale even breathing against the silence of the arena. 

_ We’ve just gotta survive until tomorrow. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so i have exams coming up so i can't say when the next update will be but i'm just gonna say a month to be safe.
> 
> ALSO WHO GOT REALLY FUCKING SHOOK FROM ATEEZ CB??
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/hyucksbible)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was in this moment that Wooyoung realised that he was seventeen years old, fighting in a battle to the death. And it wasn’t just his life at stake. 
> 
> And maybe, for once, he wanted an easy way out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this is long overdue and i will admit that i've put this off for a while because i had no motivation once my exams were over. this chapter is slightly shorter but hope you enjoy nonetheless. haven't exactly edited it that much but i wanted to put it out as quickly as possible because it's been way too long.

San didn’t bring it up again but Wooyoung kept thinking about their conversation. Why hadn’t he left yet? Why hadn’t he killed the other boy yet? Wasn’t that his plan? Wasn’t that the whole point?

What was wrong with him?

The boy in question was currently busying himself with fashioning a spear for Wooyoung. He had managed to find a reasonable-sized stick while out hunting that morning and since Wooyoung only had his pocket knife, the blonde had taken it upon himself to bestow him with a new weapon. For the entire morning and now eating into the early hours of the afternoon, San had sat at the cave’s entrance, sharpening the spear’s body and end so that Wooyoung would at least get a decent amount of blood with one throw.

He watched the boy’s practised motions, admiring the rhythm that he had comfortably fallen into.

“You do this often?” Wooyoung walked over to sit beside San, enjoying the unusual silence and tranquility that the arena had come to embody recently. “Sharpening tools? Woodwork? Wouldn’t have pegged you as a manual work kinda guy.”

In a way, the two boys had created their own little world. Their cave served as shelter while they easily foraged for food, thanks to San’s hunting experience and Wooyoung’s trained eye. San had chosen a place that was near a small creek, so their water supply never ran out. Surprisingly, Wooyoung felt at ease.

“Well, it’s not like there’s much else to do back home,” San replied without breaking his rhythm. “But if you were wondering, then no, this isn’t my usual scene. Back home, I would usually help my mum and brother doing whatever I could to get resources. Mainly hunting and signing up for tesserae.”

“Sounds tough.”

“Well, it’s worked out this far,” San shrugged. “I’m just hoping that now I’m gone, my mum will actually start taking charge of the house. Don’t know how much I can bet on that though since she hasn’t come out of her slump since dad passed away.”

Wooyoung wanted to continue but feared that he would overstep his boundaries.

“And what if she doesn’t?”

“I’ve always got Hongjoong checking up on them every day and he knows how to hunt as well. He’ll look after them.”

“He’s your friend, right? Back in 12?”

“Yeah, I met him while hunting a few years ago. We’ve been doing it together ever since and we promised that we would take care of each other’s families if one of us got picked,” San smiled fondly while recounting. “He’s actually a year older than me so he didn’t have to worry about getting picked anymore. And I mean, this was my last year of having my name in the raffle so I figured since I survived this far, I probably wouldn’t get picked anymore.”

The blonde let out a sigh and despite them only being centimetres away from each other, Wooyoung felt that they were in two different worlds.

“Guess I didn’t factor in what would happen if Jongho got picked on his second time around.”

Wooyoung tilted his head. “Second time? He’s only thirteen?”

San nodded.

“Damn, from what I remember, he looked at least fifteen.”

“Well, he’s been through a lot.” Their eyes locked. “We all have.”

San lowered his gaze to return back to his task of sharpening the spear and a comfortable silence settled over them. He wasn’t surprised when it was broken by the blonde boy less than a minute later.

“You know, I didn’t see you that night before the Games.”

Wooyoung huffed as he struggled to recall the days leading up to their entrance into the arena. There were the training sessions together and the late night rooftop meetups and _ oh _. He remembered now how he had stopped by Yeji that final night, where they had spent their moments in darkness simply telling each other secrets that no one else knew. Wooyoung had never been the sentimental type, but there was something comforting in telling a secret to someone and knowing that it wouldn’t get out. And for that reason, he knew he would have to have the personal pleasure of watching the life drain out of his fellow District 1 tribute.

“Did you miss me?” Wooyoung asked while smirking, only to receive a deadpan stare from the other.

“Believe whatever the hell you want, asshole.” San rolled his eyes before they transformed with a playful glint. “I bet you missed me, though.”

Wooyoung let out a disbelieving breath but nonetheless thought back to his first few days in the arena. Even when San hadn’t been around him, he had been haunting his mind and only when he had the boy next to him was he finally able to concentrate.

He answered truthfully. “A bit.”

A joyous giggle broke out in the midst of tranquility and Wooyoung sat in shock as he watched San throw his head back in pure joy. 

“What?”

San feigned offense. “What? Can I not laugh just for the sake of it?”

Wooyoung just scoffed and shook his head in amazement. It was impossible to not laugh along with him. “You know, before I left District 1, my friend told me that I probably wouldn’t be laughing or anything once the Games started. I’ll be looking forward to telling him that he was wrong.”

“You have friends?” San gasped and Wooyoung was torn over laughing along with him or preparing his knife for his next kill.

“Yes, dipshit. Anyway, I’m surprised that you have friends with your clingy attitude.”

“Excuse me? Me? Clingy?”

“Yes, _ you _. You were the one always trying to talk to me and shit.”

San had now fully turned towards him despite the little space they had. “Hold on. You know that’s not true. You even invaded my space on the rooftop when I was enjoying my alone time.”

“Okay, first of all, it wasn’t your space. Secondly, you asked me to stay,” Wooyoung replied.

“Oh please, I could see it in your eyes. You were practically begging for someone to talk to.”

It was only then that he comprehended how close their faces were. Night had begun creeping upon them sometime during their tangential conversation but being despite the darkness, he could clearly see every detail of San’s face.

“It’s weird to think that they could be watching us right now,” San whispered as he averted his gaze and leaned back, putting some space between them. Wooyoung didn’t know if he was relieved or disappointed. “Our friends, I mean.” 

Aside from Yeosang, Wooyoung hadn’t really spent much time thinking about people back home. He doubted that anyone who knew him apart from his best friend truly cared for him anyway. They just needed District 1 to win.

Although they didn’t care about him, Wooyoung didn’t doubt that they knew him. After all, he was one of the top trainees at the academy. What would they think when they saw him like this?

“Well, they definitely wouldn’t expect me to be here. With you,” Wooyoung replied.

“I’m guessing they don’t really know you that well,” San chuckled, tilting his head to look up at the Career. “You strike me as someone who keeps most people away with just one look.”

San leaned further towards him. Wooyoung struggled to maintain eye contact as the distance between them decreased. They simply stayed there for several seconds as Wooyoung found himself stuck in a tug-of-war between “_ more _ ” and “ _ no, don’t do it _”. 

He eventually found the strength to pull back slightly and avert his gaze forward instead. He could practically feel San grinning and he didn’t realise that he had been smiling until several seconds passed with his face beginning to ache.

“Hey, wanna know what I would want to be if I were someone from the richer districts?”

Wooyoung raised his eyebrows at the boy who was nearly finished with the spear, it seemed. The blonde always seemed to have endless topics to talk about and Wooyoung tended to find them more entertaining as he continued to discover more about the other male.

“Not really, but—”

“A barista.”

“What?”

“I’d want to be a barista.”

Wooyoung turned to him with an incredulous expression. “You’d want to be a barista?”

San tilted his head. “Why do you seem so surprised?”

“Well, I mean, it’s hardly a job that people strive for,” Wooyoung replied.

The blonde fixed him with a look. “Well, try visiting 12 sometime and you’ll be shocked at the lack of anything. Basically any job that you’d be familiar with is a desirable position for me.”

“You don’t got cafes around there?”

“It’s hard enough to get sufficient food for one person, let alone a family. Cafes aren’t really a necessity when people are dying of starvation.”

The difference in living standards had never been so distinct. 

“So how do you even know about cafes then? Have you ever been inside one before?”

“Yeah, once. We visited several places in the Capitol on our first day.”

The Career scoffed. “You’ve been to a cafe once and suddenly your dream is to become a barista?”

“I know that even if I go there a hundred times, my opinion’s not gonna change.”

“Why a barista? Like no offence, but you ain’t gonna get the best money from it.”

“I feel like you still don’t realise who exactly you’re talking to,” San chuckled. “I don’t care about money. I want to make people happy, even if it’s just through little things. When I visited the cafe, it seemed like that was exactly what baristas did. Like, it may not seem big but if your coffee’s shit, then subconsciously you don’t feel that great anymore.”

He couldn’t disagree with that.

“And it seems like a great way to meet lots of people, which I like as well.”

Wooyoung reached out to run his hands through the other’s hair and he felt San lean in slightly. “I can’t say I expected any less of you, San.”

The blonde placed his hand over his heart dramatically. “It’s like you know me already, Wooyoungie.” Then he burst out laughing once he saw the Career’s mortified expression.

  
  
  
  
  
  


The next day began with San and Wooyoung brandishing bow and spear respectively as they set out for another round of hunting.

“Don’t forget to keep watch for other tributes,” San reminded him. “Can’t lose you now, ‘cos you’re my bodyguard.”

“What do you mean? If you’ve got a shot like that, then you could probably take out everyone in this arena.”

Wooyoung froze. Did that include him as well? After all, San could’ve shot him dead when he was already fatigued from running from the forest fire. 

But he didn’t.

“Well, eventually the arrows are gonna run out,” San shrugged. “I try to salvage them but sometimes I can’t keep track and I feel weird keeping ones with blood on them.”

“Well then, you’re just doing yourself in.”

“I’m gonna die in here anyway,” San whispered and he simply looked resigned to his fate.

Wooyoung felt flames rise in his chest but he pushed them down and kept his mouth shut.

San went on ahead and Wooyoung was reminded that no matter how many times he saw the boy in action, it would never fail to render him incompetent of proper thought. Before Wooyoung had even registered the distant movement of a bird, San was ready with an arrow pointed precisely at the target. The arrow flew soundlessly through the air, only hearing the muffled noise from the bird on impact and the thud of its small body as it hit the ground.

As always, San stood in place with a satisfied smile, letting his bow fall slightly as he simply stared at where the bird had been in the sky. Silently, Wooyoung moved to stand beside him, admiring the rare glance of San looking calm. His lips naturally turned upwards and his eyes crinkled slightly so that his entire demeanour radiated happiness.

“You always look content when you hunt,” he observed, reaching out to card his hands through the blonde hair once again. It felt natural.

“It’s the only thing that reminds me of home,” San replied.

The blonde smiled genuinely at him and Wooyoung could only reply with a smile of his own.

After learning that hunting was the sole thing that kept him sane in the arena, Wooyoung made his job to maximise their time spent outside the cave. After waking up, they would quickly get ready before taking off for the day, only to arrive just before nightfall.

He learnt that San had kept himself out of view by climbing trees and camouflaging with the branches. He learnt it the hard way.

“I guess some people just aren’t cut out for this,” San called out from above, grinning widely.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t spend every single day of my life climbing trees and hunting, like some people,” Wooyoung shouted back as he finally managed to haul himself up onto the next branch, panting heavily.

Leaning over, he could see the place where they had left their shoes hidden at the base of the trunk. It had been something that San had said about bare feet making it easier to grip onto the branches but Wooyoung firmly believed it was to make him suffer even more.

Currently, San was several branches above him, merely a spectator to Wooyoung’s fruitless efforts of climbing nimbly. He had ended up shedding his outer jacket and jumper since they restricted his movements even though San seemed fine in his full attire topped off with his bow and quiver on his back.

“You’d think they would’ve at least trained you guys in tree climbing in preparation for the Games,” the blonde said and if Wooyoung focused hard enough, he could discern that the other’s voice sounded further away than before. "Like, it's a basic survival skill."

“They did,” he managed to grunt as he looked up to see San climbing further up, not bothering to wait.

“Clearly not well enough.”

After one of the most intense upper body workouts he had done in a while, Wooyoung joined San in sitting in a fork in the branches. They had chosen a tree with a thick trunk and hence all of the branches were quite stable. At least, that’s what San had told him.

“Damn, did you do this every day?” Wooyoung asked after he had caught his breath.

“Yeah. Had to stay off the ground so that I wasn’t killed off quickly,” he grinned. “It’s actually quite amazing how often people forget to look up.”

San then instructed that they both secure themselves to the tree with a rope. It seemed that he had planned it all along when Wooyoung watched the blonde untie two lengths of rope from around his waist, which had been hidden underneath his jacket. 

He was in the process of securing himself to the tree when he heard the signature giggle from the other.

“I see you still haven’t mastered the art of knot tying,” the boy said once he had finished, simply watching the Career struggle. “I thought I already taught you this.”

“You sure about that?” Wooyoung huffed as he attempted to pull one end through a loop.

“Yes, I’m sure,” San replied and Wooyoung could practically hear his smile. “Weren’t you listening?”

“Of cour—”

“Let me do it,” San cut it when Wooyoung failed to pull the rope through the loop for the third time. Considering the lack of space between them, he was able to lean over while still tied up and expertly fix Wooyoung's mess.

His face was a breath’s distance away and Wooyoung took the opportunity to soak in the small details. He noticed the feline slant of his eyes and the tall bridge of his nose. When he turned to the side, the angular slope of his jaw became more pronounced. The way that San’s fingers deftly handled the rope, not unnecessarily prodding at Wooyoung, didn’t go unnoticed. The whole thing only lasted less than a minute but the feather touches lingered on his skin much longer.

Wooyoung didn’t noticed that San had let go of the rope, having finished, until the blonde looked up to meet his gaze. The familiar upward curve of a smirk made its way onto his face and Wooyoung could already the teasing words that were on the tip of his tongue. 

That was until San’s gaze was suddenly averted past him and before he could react, the other had leaned back to steady himself in a crouch position and aimed his bow. 

In the moment that lasted from when San pulled out his bow until he let the arrow fly, there was something magical in the way he looked. His demeanour was calm and determined, like a smouldering flame that never failed to burn. A flame that was contained, but not trapped. Never too big or too small.

Just perfect.

And then the usual thud was heard as he twisted his head to see San had caught a medium-sized squirrel. 

“Looks like we’ll be having a feast tonight,” San mused.

The view from above the ground was definitely a new and exciting experience, however soon, the feeling of solid ground beneath his feet was something that Wooyoung craved. The two of them soon made their way down and Wooyoung had barely managed to climb down from the tree when the urge became too much.

“You know, you were actually better than I—”

Wooyoung soon realised that as much as he liked to hear the melodic tones of San’s voice, he much rathered the muffled sound of surprise that was swallowed as the blonde was pushed up against the trunk of the tree and their lips finally connected.

One second, he had been watching San jump down from his final branch and the next, his hands, body, mouth were focused solely upon San, San, _ San _.

Their mouths collided in an open-mouthed kiss and it caught Wooyoung off guard how fast San reciprocated his actions. His entire body relaxed as Wooyoung pushed him further against the tree and he let out moan as one hand rested upon Wooyoung’s nape. The other fisted his hair and Wooyoung responded with a low growl, fervently pressing his tongue against the other’s lips. 

Soon, it was a battle of dominance and control, although Wooyoung wouldn’t have been sad to lose. His hands found themselves on San’s waist to steady himself and he squeezed tighter just to remind himself that he wasn’t actually floating.

A hand ran down his chest and he unconsciously released a groan. He could feel San’s smile form a smile and on cue, he heard the giggling that had grown to become his safe haven. Pulling back, he took in San’s eye smile and pronounced dimples. His eyes held the same teasing glint and maybe — finally — Wooyoung could see the meaning behind it.

He brought their lips back together, however their permanent grins turned it into more of an affair of lips and teeth more than anything else. It was perfect, nonetheless.

They were interrupted by movement to the side. A strange contraption was drifting down towards them, aided by a parachute. At first he didn’t recognise it however San’s face immediately lit up. It landed several paces away from them on the ground. 

“I think my good luck has finally rubbed off on you,” the blonde announced. “Congratulations on your first sponsor gift, Wooyoung.”

_ Give them a good show, huh? _

The unadulterated pride that swam in San’s eyes was overwhelming. It was more emotion he’d ever received from anyone, ever.

“I think it’s for both of us,” he choked slightly, throat feeling constricted.

San nodded for him to open it and they both settled on the forest floor. Wooyoung reached out to detach the parachute canopy and it didn’t take long to open the capsule. Immediately, multiple aromas wafted through the air and their eyes widened at the sight of several boxes of food, ranging from seasonal and exotic vegetables to an array of different meats, still warm. Their meal was topped off with several condiments and two pairs of chopsticks.

“Holy shit,” he whispered.

“I haven’t seen at least half of these things before in my life,” San muttered in awe.

They shared a knowing look.

“Oh yeah, we’ll definitely be having a feast tonight.”

Wooyoung went to sleep that night satisfied, and not just with the food.

  
  
  
  


The day began the same way that all their other days together had begun. And really, Wooyoung should’ve seen it coming, because they were in the middle of the goddamn _ Hunger Games _, for fuck’s sake. 

It was stupid, but he had honestly lost track of how long he had spent in San’s company. And for some reason, he went to sleep every night with the certainty of knowing San would be there when he woke up; knowing they would get to spend the next day with each other and it didn’t scare him that he actually enjoyed it.

And it was so comical that it didn’t matter how long they spent building and protecting their fortress of comfort. It only took one blow to shatter it to pieces, irrevocably broken.

They were on their usual hunting round. Wooyoung saw the attacker before he could register what it meant. For so long, it had been him and San, depending on one another that he had temporarily forgotten that they were constantly threatened with the prospect of being hunted. 

There was the distinct sound of metal impaling flesh and his eyes searched for the blonde. The sight that met him was San’s pained expression and he lowered his gaze to see that a makeshift axe had deeply cut his left thigh, red liquid already flowing steadily out. The boy was already on the ground, hands clutching his leg and heaving heavily.

Blood. 

There was a lot of blood.

San was _covered_ in blood.

A sudden cry left his mouth as he turned to focus upon the attacker, the girl from 4, and instinctively swung his arm at her. The spear left his hand, aimed perfectly, and he watched as it embedded itself in the left side of her chest. She cried out and stumbled backwards, but used her remaining strength to aim her knife at him. He barely had time to duck out of its direct path, with the weapon managing to graze his arm and leave a shallow cut. 

He readied himself by pulling out his knife. Turning back to the girl, he was ready to lunge at him however it seemed that it wouldn’t be necessary. Her eyes had lost its fire and he watched as she crumpled to the ground without resistance.

The cannon boomed in the distance and it was a weird feeling when Wooyoung realised it had been a while since he had killed someone. His thoughts were interrupted by the groans of San. He began to rush over but found himself stopped in his tracks as another figure came into his field of vision. 

It was an unfamiliar male — he recalled something about him being from District 9 or 10 — and the newcomer was quick to throw a decent-sized stone in his direction. Without much effort, Wooyoung evaded it and seeing that the boy had no obvious weapons, he rushed over to Nagyung’s lifeless body to reclaim his spear.

He saw San attempt to sit up, groaning. Being a little preoccupied with the immediate pain in his leg, he was yet to register the third person present. The sound averted the boy’s attention to San and Wooyoung watched in slow motion as a bigger knife was thrown at his sluggish figure.

“_ No _!” he yelled and he watched San’s eyes widen moments before it happened.

It was in this moment that Wooyoung realised that he was seventeen years old, fighting in a battle to the death. And it wasn’t just his life at stake. 

And maybe, for once, he wanted an easy way out.

The knife lodged itself in the opposite leg, causing another gash in his lower right leg. San keeled over and his face expressed how he simultaneously wanted to cry and scream. Instead he remained silent, only squeezing his eyes shut to hopefully block out all sensations.

Wooyoung acted on pure survival instincts alone with his fists collided with muscle and bone before he had time to comprehend his own objectives. He might’ve let out a shout of anger but at that moment, he didn’t care about himself. He simply felt his knuckles stinging until the sensations felt numb, until he wasn’t sure if the growing hue of red was real or just his imagination.

Everything about him was solely focused on hitting harder each time and everything within him craved the friction of skin against skin, bone against bone. The flame within him was now uncontainable and all its pain manifested into brain signals that told him to hurt, punch, kill. All he saw in his mind was San’s disfigured body — the worst of the worst — and he needed to make the boy under him hurt more than that.

The cannon boomed distantly but he kept going. _ Twenty-six, twenty-seven ...twenty-eight _. He fell into a syncopated rhythm as he revelled in the growing red painted on the dirt and fallen leaves.

His mind only cleared slightly when he felt fingers weakly close around his ankle and he turned to find San reaching out with pleading eyes. “It’s over,” he croaked out and finally, Wooyoung looked back to see the completely unrecognisable sight of the boy, more red than any other colour.

“It’s done, Wooyoung,” San whispered. “You can stop now.”

He slowly stood on shaky feet, finally breathing out and allowing his energy to dissipate. His chest was heaving as the adrenaline wore off and the only thing keeping him upright was his willpower.

Finally, he took a good look at San. Okay, the top half honestly didn’t look too bad. He could’ve just fallen over or taken a good punch. However, the bottom half told a different story.

“We’ve gotta get you back,” Wooyoung urged. “Now.”

San groaned as he was picked up and slung over Wooyoung’s shoulder. With his free hand, Wooyoung picked up the bow and several stray arrows that were scattered on the ground. Having spent the past days in these parts of the woods, he recognised that they were not too far from their camp.

His breathing evened out as he focused on putting one foot in front of the other. He focused on his breaths — air going in and out — and only keeping his eyes forward. It was when he set San down and was finally able to see his unkempt condition that the panic began to settle back in. He tried to hide his shaking hands from San's view.

Despite the dirt that was smudged across his face and in his hair, not to mention the blood that was beginning to cake his lower body, San grinned and reached out to brush the stray hairs that were hanging in front of Wooyoung’s eyes.

“Thought you wanted me dead,” the blonde muttered. “Isn’t that what you kept saying?”

“Can’t have that now, can I?” Wooyoung whispered back. “Who else is gonna help me get gifts from sponsors?”

“You’re pretty enough. I think you’ll manage.”

San reached out to stroke Wooyoung’s face however the slight movement caused him to gasp in pain.

“Whoa, stay down.” Wooyoung gently pushed San back down into a horizontal position and used several items of extra clothing as cushioning. “Just relax and I’ll sort this out.”

Glancing around the cave, he rummaged through the bags to find any remaining medicine that San had used when he had been burnt. That had been the last time he had seen it and there wasn’t much faith in being able to improve San’s condition without medication or first aid.

In the meantime, he ripped strips of a spare shirt to act as bandages. As he wrapped the cloth tightly around San’s lower limbs, he was reminded of their reversed positions only a week ago. Thanks to San, Wooyoung had healed from his severe burns and cuts and now, he was determined to return the favour.

“Hey San, stay with me,” he whispered as he looked up to see the boy's eyelids drooping. He reached up to squeeze San’s shoulder. “Stay here with me.”

The boy opened his eyes, only slightly, and rested his own hand on top of Wooyoung’s. Wooyoung breathed a visible sigh of relief.

“I’m okay, don’t worry. I ain’t gonna die that easily.”

“That better be a promise.”

Once all the bandages were in place, he did his best to wipe away the remaining dried blood. They didn’t have proper first aid equipment, so he couldn’t sterilize the wound. No doubt, it would get slightly infected, meaning San would be in even more pain.

He was out of options.

Shit. 

As San’s eyelids began to fall again and as Wooyoung felt the hold of San’s hand loosen, he rushed to grab the nearest water bottle. They had previously been frugal with their food and water supply but this was kind of an emergency. 

“Hey, stay with me,” he urged as he shuffled forward so he could comfortably lift up San’s shoulders and neck, and placed the bottle to his mouth. Slowly, he tipped the water and watched in relief as San took small sips, almost like a kitten.

He spent the next few minutes wiping San’s face and neck with a damp cloth, cleaning away faint streaks of dirt and small cuts. Despite being in pain, San helped him by twisting his head to allow Wooyoung to easily reach behind each ear and under his chin.

“San, how are you feeling?”

San’s eyes opening a little and he managed a ghost of a smile. “Sometimes, my legs feel like they’re on fire but other times, they just feel kinda numb. Kinda feels like I’m floating.”

That didn’t sound good. However, he managed a smile for the blonde boy.

“Come here,” San whispered, voice so soft — barely there — but his eyes spoke volumes. He feebly reached a hand towards Wooyoung’s face to which he responded by leaning closer to the injured boy.

Gingerly, the blonde held onto the back of his head and brought their lips together in a tender kiss. Wooyoung closed his eyes and for a moment, he could pretend that everything was okay and everything that happened today was just a nightmare. They were the only ones who existed, if only for a moment.

He was soon reminded that _ no _, they were not the only ones when a booming voice resounded across the forest.

“Hello tributes, or those that remain.” Wooyoung could recognise the voice of the Hunger Games host instantly. “It seems that there are not many of you left, and as time goes on, things are starting to get harder now, aren’t they?”

The cheerful face of Kim Heechul popped into his mind and it was only reinforced how this whole thing was simply a form of entertainment for the Capitol.

“Now, it seems that all of you have found yourself in a pickle, tributes. So, we have decided to reward your hard work in making it this far with a few treats. At the Cornucopia, you will find that which each of you desire. See you there tributes and I assure you that you will not be disappointed.”

In the dim lighting of the cave, Wooyoung looked down to see San’s wide gaze already on him. Looking at the boy in pain, he knew what he — they — needed, and what he needed to do now.

“Wooyoung, no.”

It seemed that San had figured it out as well.

“I have to, San.”

“You know it’s a trap.”

“It ain’t a trap if get in and out fast enough.”

“Stay,” San urged, and he guided Wooyoung’s mouth into another kiss. Honestly, staying with San didn’t seem like such a bad option. “There’s still strong tributes left. It’s dangerous.”

“Don’t tell me you’re underestimating me now, blondie.”

San chuckled but it quickly turned into a painful wheeze as the sudden movement triggered more pain. He waved off Wooyoung’s hands that rushed to support the boy’s leg. “Trust me, Wooyoung. I’m fine.”

“I trust you. You know that,” Wooyoung said as he pressed his lips to the other boy’s forehead. “But I know when to trust my instincts.”

He was already shoving his bloody knife into his pocket and grabbing the spear before San could respond. He knelt down beside San to give him a goodbye kiss.

“Wait,” San held onto his wrist as Wooyoung pulled away. “Grab some food to take with you.” He pointed towards the bag which held all their supplies. Wooyoung relented, grabbing one ration of crackers to sate San’s worries. Finally, he headed to the entrance.

“Be safe.”

“I will.” He turned back. “You better stay safe.”

  
  
  
  
  


He didn’t know which direction led to the Cornucopia so the first thing Wooyoung did was find the tallest tree and climb it. From a higher vantage point, he could see that trees continued in each direction, however to the right, the trees grew blurry into the distance. 

Interesting. 

Clambering down quickly, he ran back to the cave and ducked in to collect San’s bow. The boy was lying peacefully, Wooyoung presumed — hoped — so he didn’t disturb him. Slinging the bow over his shoulder, he climbed back up the tree and found his initial bearings again. 

Wooyoung was no shooting ace, but he had definitely been trained to use the weapon. Against San, he was a mere amateur but all he needed the arrow to do now was fly far. He could do that. 

Aiming the arrow to the right and pulling back as far as he could, he released it and watched as it flew several kilometres before seemingly striking midair and triggering a ripple of hexagonal holograms that indicated the edge of the arena. Despite the distance between him and the collision, he felt the tree shake slightly from the impact.

Now that he knew which direction led to the force field, he pointedly climbed down the tree and began his long trek in the opposite direction.

He only realised that he had left their den so late in the afternoon when it was nearly late afternoon when he reached the central forest clearing. There was still light but it was significantly dimmer. He could still make out the Cornucopia through the curtain of trees that lined the clearing.

The memory of their first day in the arena came full force and it was weird that he looked back on his past self with disbelief. He had thought all those years of training would give him a free pass to adversities in the arena. He had expected their plan to work; his victory secured. Even then, he had been so naive. 

The coast seemed clear as he approached the edge of the clearing but of course, that didn’t guarantee anything. After waiting for a minute and spying no movements, Wooyoung kicked a large rock into the clearing. Only silence followed.

Carefully, he stepped into the clearing, making no loud noises. It was getting darker but a lone figure walking towards the Cornucopia would still be clear as day. And no doubt, there were other tributes hiding around, waiting for vulnerable prey.

After several slow steps with no interruptions, he quickened his pace into a moderate run as he spied the Capitol’s “gifts” lying on a table at the entrance of the Cornucopia. There were several of them wrapped in black material, each with a name in clear white print. His name was there, among others. He reached the table within seconds and hastily grabbed his own bundle, before turning to run straight back. 

However, he keenly spied the other gifts left. There were three others, for tributes from other districts. Turning around, he approached the table again. He stood there for a few seconds, running several scenarios through his head before ultimately pulling out his knife and slashing two of the bags open. 

Out spilled food and matches, decorating the table and ground with mismatched colours. It was chaotic but it was beautiful. He prepared to slash the final bag when the dark wrapping of the gift disappeared and instead, he saw the smiling face of San staring back at him. The sudden image then took on a red hue, as if Wooyoung’s knife had sliced through and painted it crimson.

What the— 

In his moment of confusion, he felt himself being pushed to the ground, effectively dropping his knife. It seemed that another boy had snuck up on him and now he was being ruthlessly kicked by the attacker. The boy looked only a few years younger but the rage in his eyes told stories of eons ago. He pinned Wooyoung down and the Career desperately struggled to escape his tight grip.

Looking up, he saw the satisfied grin of the other tribute.

“Always knew you Careers were trash,” the boy spat. “Playing dirty even before the Games begun.”

“What—”

The punch knocked his head swiftly to the side, colliding with the hard unforgiving dirt and Wooyoung scrunched his eyes up in pain. He was strong himself, but this guy must’ve been on another tier because, damn was he struggling miserably.

“I’ve wanted to kill you from the start,” the boy continued. “There’s something satisfying about putting you rich bitches in your place.”

The boy’s grin was unsettling as he revealed a sharp stick which he pressed to Wooyoung’s neck. More pressure was applied and Wooyoung could feel the liquid steadily flowing out of the cut. One arm reached out to grab the attacker’s wrist and he succeeded in flinging the weapon several feet away. Wooyoung then butted his head into the other’s nose and smirked at the resulting yelp of pain.

However, the other boy soon got the upper hand once again and Wooyoung was pushed back down, all the while scratching red lines in the other's arms and kicking frantically. The boy opened his mouth again to taunt further but in one instant, his weight was removed from on top of Wooyoung and the Career was left staring at the sky.

Sitting up, he saw that another tribute — taller with raven-black hair and several tattoos marking his arm, around Wooyoung's age — was now beating up the initial attacker whilst pinning them to the outside of the Cornucopia. The newcomer’s hands easily wrapped around the boy’s neck and judging by the size of the male’s biceps, it wasn’t a surprise that the life was quickly drained from the boy. The shorter boy collapsed onto the floor once the other let go.

The raven-haired boy then whipped around to quickly approach Wooyoung, still remaining in his fallen position. Wooyoung instinctively reached out to grab onto his discarded knife. Perhaps the boy that finished off the other one so he could get the satisfaction of killing Wooyoung himself.

“Yoojung told me about you,” the boy said instead. His voice was hushed and hurried but his glare was steady, intent on conveying his message to the Career. “I ain’t doing this because I like you, 1. Okay? But Yoojung wouldn’t want me to kill you, so I’m gonna let you go this once.”

Silence fell again once the boy’s footsteps could no longer be heard. Wooyoung remained in place as he registered that he had been attacked (rightfully) due to him sabotaging other tributes — which to be fair, was the point of the Games. And then he had been saved.

It didn’t take a genius to compute the lack of logic. 

He didn’t deserve it. No matter which little girl felt grateful.

Slowly, he picked himself up from the ground and observed the mess that was not present when he first arrived. The contents of the two bags still decorated the arena’s floor as well as new stains of red that surrounded the unconscious boy’s body. It seemed that chaos followed him wherever he went. 

Grabbing his gift from the Capitol, he ran back to the throng of trees. He had overstayed his visit and darkness had nearly completely taken over the arena, obscuring his vision. This was bad.

“And where do you think you’re going?”

His thoughts and movements were halted.

It hadn’t been that long since the twenty-four tributes had entered the arena. Less than two weeks, definitely.

He knew that. He knew.

Then why did it feel like a lifetime since he had heard that voice?

He turned around and he felt a weird combination of relief and terror. A sharp knife was pointed at his throat but the real menace was found in his opponent’s grin.

“Took you long enough to find me,” Yeji said.

His brain instantly took a defensive stance. “Not my fault that this arena is confusing as fuck. I swear they’ve been changing its layout.”

“They have,” Yeji replied.

_ Good guess, Wooyoung. _

“You know, the day you and Seonghwa went to the river, we waited for a couple hours before going to look for you and we ended up spending the whole day looking for the river. It was as if there was never any river there to begin with and of course, you two were gone as well. I figured there were more tricks to this place than I initially thought. I mean, of course they couldn't just throw us into any regular forest.”

“Well, I guess I better get back before I lose my way.”

“Still going somewhere, I see,” Yeji called out as she walked off in another direction.

“What does that mean?”

She looked back over her shoulder. “It means you don’t have to go back to your one-man camp.” 

San was still currently in pain and he had to get back quickly so that the medicine — or whatever the Capitol had given them — would have time to take effect. If he didn’t get back quickly, it might be too late.

“What makes you think that I’m doing this alone?”

“Very funny, Wooyoung. I’d like to see the day that you successfully work together with someone else. I’m not expecting it for a few more years.” Yeji rested a hand on her waist as she turned around fully. “Besides, you ain’t gonna let someone of the credit of your victory.”

“Exactly. So why should I let you help me now?”

“Are you saying that you’re too prideful to get help and boost your chances? Or are you saying you’ve actually struck up an alliance?”

“I’m saying it’s a bit too late to form one now.”

He could already see that if he kept resisting, Yeji would get more suspicious and it wouldn’t take long for her to piece that together with the fact that the only other person he’s willingly talked to in here was San.

And no doubt she’s been crossing off the names of the Fallen in her mind, so she was well aware that the boy wasn’t dead yet.

“What happened with the rest of the pack?”

“I got ‘em,” Yeji said. “Well, not really. You and Seonghwa were gone so that left the three others. We stayed together for a bit, but then our no fighting policy proved to be useless. Mingi was the first one to snap and he ended up leading us into a trap which I’m pretty sure he set up while he was on watch. There were several nets and tracker jacker nests which we got caught in. Nagyung was the first to get out and after that I lost track of her.”

Wooyoung remembered having her blood stain his hands.

Yeji was subconsciously spinning her knife in her hand — a nervous tic of her’s that Wooyoung had seen over the course of their training — and he could piece together that despite her impenetrable exterior, whatever happened had taken a toll on her. 

“I acted on pure instinct alone when I tried to stab Mingi,” she continued. “It was hard since obviously, I was caught in his trap but it’s true that they don’t train trainees at 4 as well as they do back home. I easily took him down once his weapon was gone. Somehow, I managed to get out but Ryujin didn’t.” She sighed. “That was a few days ago.”

“And Seonghwa?”

Yeji’s eyes reflected the flickering flames.

“I haven’t seen his face yet, so he’s gotta still be out there.”

The several days spent with San had really put him out of the game mindset and merely being in the other Career’s presence, Wooyoung felt all of his training coming back. Like an amnesiac person hit by a trigger. Like a train slotting into its old set of rails.

His eyes lit up slightly. “So does that mean that you’ve got a hell lot of supplies?”

Hints of a smirk resurfaced. “Yeah, it does."

“Well then, what are we waiting for, partner?”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Wooyoung saw the boy’s face in the sky that night. 

_ Seo Changbin. _

District 8. Yoojung’s companion. Wooyoung’s rescuer.

He didn’t want to admit it, but if it wasn’t for Changbin then Wooyoung might've suffered a lot more earlier. The only reason the boy had saved him, then spared him, was because Wooyoung let go of Yoojung all those days ago. 

It seemed so long ago that Wooyoung had cornered the girl on the edge of the river, preparing for his next kill. His knife had been brandished, waiting to be painted in the warm hue of crimson. He had wanted to kill her. But he hadn’t. He hadn’t because— 

_ Would you jump? _

_ Fuck _, he thought as the familiar voice invaded his thoughts once again. No matter how close or far he put between them, his mind was occupied with one particular person. San had said those words when the two of them were sat on the rooftop, looking over the edge. He had told him that he would rather kill himself than let someone else do it for him. 

Yoojung was already dead. He knew that because he had seen her face in the sky several nights ago. Changbin no doubt knew that as well. Even so, he respected her wishes still. 

Honestly, Wooyoung didn’t know what he was doing. San needed him, but Yeji was already on his case. She wasn’t dumb and anything suspicious would raise major red flags in her mind. She knew that he wanted to kill her just as well as he knew of her intentions to kill him. Their alliance was merely a facade but it was beneficial in its own right.

Plus, it was true that Wooyoung had come in here to do a job and, somehow, had gotten a little sidetracked. There were people on the outside counting on his victory and it was stupid to waste all his efforts on one person.

No matter how good that person made Wooyoung feel.

His happiness wasn’t worth it. San’s happiness wasn’t worth it.

Maybe if he kept repeating that, his mind would start to believe it.

Yeji sat down next to him and joined in observing the faces in the sky. “Did you find the one with the gun?”

The gun.

Those thoughts hadn’t once crossed his mind in the entire time that he had been absent from their pack.

“No, I didn’t.”

“I think we might’ve found them,” Yeji sighed. “Heard something like a gunshot, that’s for sure. Dunno if we actually got them or not.”

He didn’t know if the tribute with the gun was still out there or not but he hoped that they wouldn’t cross paths with a certain blonde-haired male.

_ It doesn’t matter _ , he thought. _ You’re here to win and you’ve been distracted for too long. He’s gonna die anyways and you knew it from the start. What the fuck were you thinking getting attached like that? _

The uneasy feeling was stamped down until his comfortable aura of ‘not giving a fuck about anything’ settled back in and for once, he felt his old self resurface. Yeosang had always said that his default personality was being a bitch and even though wasn’t sure if he was completely proud of it, there was no better feeling than coming back home.

Even so, there was a part of him that resisted.

_ Please be alright, San. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully the next chapter doesn't take a month and a half but good news is that there is only one more chapter so you won't have to put up with my shit updating schedule that much longer. unless i post another fic and you decide to read that. anyways hope you enjoyed this chapter and see you when i post next.
> 
> edit from 10 March 2020: i lied,, there's actually three chapters after this


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Despite his conflicted feelings about the blonde at the moment, he still kinda wanted to kiss him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok so this is looooonng overdue and i'm so sorry. i finally got a job and now i've started uni and they're both kicking my ass. idk if i'm gonna change stuff in this chapter later for narrative reasons but i figured i'd just get it out now bcs it's been way too long. also you may have read in the last author's note that there would only be one more chapter but i've been editing and now there's gonna be two more chapters after this one. the chapters will probably be shorter but i feel like it's better to space them out.
> 
> it’s also kinda weird that you’re only reading this now because i’ve had the beginning part of this chapter and the general outline ready for months already. also this chapter is shorter and may seem kinda rushed and again, i'm sorry. i wanted to keep it for longer to edit but i decided 'fuck it' bcs it's been too long already. anyway i’m pretty sure y’all aren’t interested in my excuses, so here you go.

Wooyoung counted the number of faces that night. 

Two. 

Two more kids had died. That meant only four were left. According to Yeji’s calculations, today was the nineteenth day so it wasn’t a surprise that most of the tributes had dropped dead by now. 

Every night, Wooyoung paid special attention to the Fallen, looking for a particular face. And every night, he failed to see him. It should make him feel relieved, but with each passing moment, he felt more on edge.

He wasn’t dead yet. 

That was good. That was very good.

Still…

“You alright?”

Wooyoung looked up to see Yeji returning with a decent-sized rodent, smelling of fresh blood. She sat down opposite him, on the other side of their campfire and began skinning the animal.

“I’m better.”

“You sure? You looked a little worked up back there.”

It was certainly a strange sensation, being back with Yeji and seeing her at work. It shouldn’t be, because he had been surrounded by these people for over ten years of his life. Somehow, it felt different now.

“I’m fine now.”

“Okay.” Yeji didn’t sound convinced. “Wanna talk about it, then?”

He recalled their fight earlier that day with another tribute. It had been one of the two faces that had appeared last night. His first kill in a while; one where he had finally been in control. Perhaps he had gone a bit overboard and he guessed he felt a little sorry for them.

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

“Well, I have questions, so...”

Wooyoung fixed her a piercing glare which didn’t seem to deter her as she continued in the absence of a response from the male.

“Where were you while you were gone?”

He picked up his spear lying nearby and began sharpening it with his knife. The scraping sounds filled the silence as he constructed a plausible answer.

“Found myself a shelter somewhere in the woods,” he said. “I don’t know where exactly, but it was somewhere out there.”

“Okay, that tells me nothing.”

“You got an answer,” he replied, gruffly. “Let’s move on.”

He sharpened the spear’s end with new vigour, adding more force onto each movement when a sudden pain flared up in his shoulder. He gasped and stilled his movements, his blade faltering and creating a jagged edge to mar the smooth surface. He stared at the mark for several seconds as he caught his breath again and slowly relaxed his limbs.

“You okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he mumbled, before rolling both shoulders back and continuing his sharpening.

It had been the same pain that he had felt earlier that day, during their fight. A sharp pain in his right shoulder that he had ignored as the adrenaline took over. It was easier to push past the pain when he knew the reward he was getting, however the adrenaline was gone now and the pain was almost unbearable.

“Does this have something to do with the tape on your back?”

His hand faltered again and he slowly lifted his gaze to meet Yeji’s. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t his own. “What tape?”

“What do you mean ‘what tape’?” Yeji asked as she furrowed her eyebrows. “The tape on the back of your shoulder. I saw it when you were washing your shirt in the river.”

“...what?”

“What do you mean? Y’know there’s some serious taping on your back, right?”

He wondered how much of a fool he would look like if he said no.

“It kinda looks like you dislocated your shoulder or something. I guess the tape was to hold the muscles in place since there isn’t much first aid around here. You must’ve had a serious injury for that.”

His mind backtracked through the events of the past few days, not finding any instance of major injury, until...

_ Fire.  _

“Yeah, I guess,” he croaked.

The memory was hazy but there had definitely been pain in his right shoulder and arm when he had gotten up. 

Yeji rolled her eyes as Wooyoung’s silence continued. “Wooyoung, I’m not dumb. I know you had an alliance. No way that tape appeared by itself and you better not give me some bullshit about doing it yourself.”

The closer Yeji got to the truth, the more Wooyoung regretted ever agreeing to join her. But now, he had questions and he wouldn’t be able to answer them alone.

“A dislocated shoulder, did you say?”

“Okay, I honestly don’t know if you’re still playing dumb or not,” Yeji said.

“Just answer the question.”

“Well, that’s what it looks like, yeah.” Yeji was still looking at him sceptically. “A dislocated shoulder.”

Considering the fall that he took, Wooyoung honestly wouldn’t be surprised by a dislocated shoulder. What did surprise him, though, was that he was learning about it now. 

It had been at least a week since the fall. And why did it only hurt now?

Sometime during their conversation, it seemed that Yeji had begun to cook the fresh meat over the fire. She handed him several pieces which he took his time to chew.

A dislocated shoulder.  _ A dislocated shoulder _ .

The more he thought about it, the more it made sense. No way he would’ve gotten out of a collision like that without an injury. But if he did have a legitimate injury, then he would’ve known about it a lot earlier than now.

He reached over with his left hand to feel his shoulder and he didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved that he felt the slightly rough surface of sports tape. If there hadn’t been tape, then that means that San was in the clear and Yeji had been lying. However...

“I’ll take first watch,” he announced as he set the spear down. 

  
  
  
  
  


Sitting alone in the dark meant that he only had his thoughts to keep him company. Which, in Wooyoung’s case, was very dangerous.

In his mind, he scrutinised every moment that San was with him and every moment that he wasn’t. He didn’t want to put any blame on him, but there were literally no other options. 

Had the other boy given him meds without him knowing? Was it painkillers? Or was it…

Wooyoung shuddered at the thought of ever accusing the blonde boy of having malicious intent but at this point, he didn’t know what to believe.

There must’ve been painkillers involved if Wooyoung hadn’t felt any pain. And if the pain now — a week later — was this intense, then he wondered just how much San had given him to suppress any hint of it. 

Was that why he was feeling weird now? Was it the meds that had fucked with his head so much that he had no idea what he wanted anymore? Was ‘caring about someone he had just met’ one of the side effects? Because he sure as hell wouldn’t have done that under normal conditions.

Was that San’s plan all along? Get the Career on your side and use him? Was any of it real or did Wooyoung just imagine him to be a fucking angel?

He already knew he was looking at another restless night.

  
  
  
  
  


The sun rose the day and so did the volume of his thoughts.

Yeji had definitely noticed that something was up and right now, Wooyoung didn’t care enough to evade her questioning stare.

“What day is it?” 

Yeji raised her brow before replying. “Twentieth.”

“Including the first day?”

“Including the first day.”

He already knew the answer, but he needed confirmation from someone else. 

Because if today was the twentieth, then there were misalignments in his mental timeline. As far as he recalled, he had spent five days with the Career tribe before he had been separated. Then, he had fallen into a coma after the fire and according to San, he spent two days asleep. The time he spent with San up until he left for the Cornucopia was seven days — that he was sure of. And this was his third day with Yeji. Which all added up to seventeen.

Which did not equal twenty.

“Wooyoung,” she called out and he was brought back to reality immediately. He turned to see Yeji staring at him, pensively. “I’m gonna kill you, you know.”

He felt the beginning of a smirk start to form. “I think you’ve said something along those lines to me before.”

Yeji’s expression remained neutral. “I’m gonna kill you. But not because I want to. Because I have to.”

“Isn’t that kinda the same thing though?” Wooyoung replied. “And does it even matter? If you’ve gotta do something, then whether you want to do it or not doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter, Wooyoung,” she said. Her lips formed a smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Instead, her eyes held an entirely different story. “Because if someone truly doesn’t want to do something, I don’t think they would do it. Even if they had to.”

“What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that we’ve been doing this shit for all our lives. For this, right? To win this whole thing. When we started, we probably didn’t understand what it all meant and through the years, we just kept going because it was all we knew. We thought we wanted it.”

Wooyoung waited with bated breath as Yeji organised her thoughts.

“I think it’s only now when we realise what we truly want,” she finished.

He waited several more moments and felt heart quickening its beat as she didn’t falter in her expression.

“Is that some bullshit you’re gonna write in your autobiography once you’ve won?” he sneered.

“I guess you could say that it’s something I’ve learnt from experience,” she mused, gaze still heavy with thought. “But I’d say I’m not the only Career to learn this.”

“So what? You want my feedback on your radical discovery or something?” he scoffed and he was surprised at his ability to keep his voice stable. Considering the slight tremors he felt in his hands, he was doing a good job at keeping it together.

“I just wanted you to know,” she shrugged. “Thought you might understand.”

“Just because we’re both Careers doesn’t mean we think the same.”

“I know.” Her gaze softened and Wooyoung had to remind himself that despite this whole thing, they were technically enemies. “I just think we might be more similar than you think.”

  
  
  
  
  


They didn’t come across any other tributes that day, which was probably for the best. With Yeji’s words from earlier that day echoing in his mind and the fact that  _ three whole days _ were missing from his memory, he was beginning to wish he had more time — away from the Games and away from the gaze of the Capitol — to just process everything. For once, he was wishing he wasn’t part of this whole thing.

It should’ve been easy. Because it was just a game. And if you know the rules and know how to use them to your advantage, then the game was yours. No one told him of a blonde boy that would fuck everything up or a district partner that was more cryptic than anything else. 

If he was anywhere else, outside of Panem and all of its rules, he might’ve liked Yeji. Frankly, he barely knew her, but it was a lie to say that he felt anything but comfort when he was around her. She had been trained as a murderer, yes, but somehow that didn’t deter him in any sense. He knew that she understood how he was feeling — to an extent. And she knew that he knew. And that was all he really needed. 

But it was something that he couldn’t really have, not in here. Sooner or later, the Capitol was going to tear them apart — by force if they had to. Wooyoung remembered watching previous Hunger Games where the strongest alliances were broken at the will of President Snow.

And then, there was San.

He could easily guess that in another universe, he wouldn’t hesitate to like San. Because, yes, he could admit that he liked San. More than he liked Yeji, more than Yeosang, more than anyone. He knew the word for it but he didn’t dare say it. If feelings breached the line of acquaintances, then it would be that much harder to see the boy’s lifeless body when it was carried out of the arena.

San’s life didn’t deserve to end now. If anyone had to go, it should be one of them — the Careers. Anyone but San.

But then the thought of the pain in his shoulder flared in his mind and he didn’t know how he felt anymore.

  
  
  
  


“Hey, Yeji,” Wooyoung started but the words died on his tongue when the other Career fixed him with her piercing gaze.

It was now late afternoon and he knew that the impending darkness would only dampen his resolve to discuss any of this. To understand the atrocity his world had turned into.

“What did you mean, when you said that we were more similar that I thought?”

She sighed and, for a second, her intimidating aura dissolved. Dropping the pair of daggers that she had been sharpening, she motioned at a spot next to her on the ground. 

“Well, you’ve thought your whole life that you wanted to be here, right?”

He nodded and sat down opposite her.

“Do you know how many kids join academies, just dreaming of being in our position? Almost every kid back home was in one before they turned ten. And then, naturally, kids left and eventually there were only a handful of us. We thought we were the ones who fought the hardest, who wanted it the most, who were the strongest.”

Yeji’s gaze drifted off into the distance, panning over the trees and bush that they had come to call home for the past three weeks.

“You wanna know what I think?” she continued. “I’d say we were the most naive.” 

Silence settled and it suddenly dawned upon him just how quiet the arena could be. Yeji’s eyes seemed to flicker over his expression, trying to gauge his thoughts, although Wooyoung had no grasp on his emotions himself.

“We were the most naive,” Wooyoung echoed and for some reason, it made sense.

“Think about it. How many people actually want to slaughter twenty-three other kids?” Her voice had now dropped to barely above a whisper but the words reverberated within Wooyoung’s whole being. “Sure, people want the fame, the envy, that comes with winning the Games. But that’s not really what the Games are about. Even if you do win, you’re really just another pawn in the Capitol’s game. And if there’s anything that people back home hate, it’s being under the control of someone else.”

“And everyone else figured it out,” Wooyoung finished. “They all understood the game and they left.”

“Except us.”

Wooyoung sighed. “Except us.”

“I mean, what even happens to us after this is over? We’ve been training all this time and suddenly we don’t need to anymore. And then what?”

For several minutes after, the two of them simply sat in a comfortable silence and maybe Wooyoung could pretend that it wasn’t a game and that he had any semblance of control over his life. He couldn’t say he completely understood what Yeji was saying, but he guessed he was starting to.

“You’re a good person, Wooyoung,” Yeji said. “I’m sorry it has to be like this.”

He refused to believe that she sounded sincere.

  
  
  
  


It wasn’t a surprise that Yeji didn’t return that night, after she had claimed to go out to find more firewood. Obviously, one of them would get tired of playing pretend soon enough.

When it had nearly reached complete darkness, Wooyoung grabbed some rope from Yeji’s supplies and a few more knives, before climbing one of the taller trees in their camping grounds. Near the edge of the clearing so he could have a good view but not too close so that he could be seen if anyone looked up. 

Climbing with his shoes on this time proved to be more difficult, which meant that San had actually been telling the truth that time — as much as Wooyoung didn’t want to admit it. Fortunately, the experience allowed him to move faster up the tree and with the impending darkness, he was practically invisible among the leaves.

Despite his conflicted feelings about the blonde at the moment, he still kinda wanted to kiss him. 

Once he reached a branch that was definitely out of sight, he settled down to secure himself to the trunk with the rope. Surprisingly, he managed in under three minutes. 

Blinking into the darkness, he heard only silence and the occasional rustling of the leaves. He couldn’t make out shapes from their shadows but he had been trained by ear long enough that he wouldn’t falter if confronted with a fight.

After a while of continued silence, his breathing fell into an even rhythm and he enjoyed the feeling of his entire body relaxing. It was only when his eyes burst open and he sat up with a start to see the first rays of sunlight flooding the arena that he realised that he had fallen asleep.

Several more seconds passed as Wooyoung slowly sat up and scanned his surroundings when he realised the arena was no longer silent. He perked up at the sound of crunching leaves and rustling branches. Leaning slightly over the edge of the branch, rope digging into his waist, he peeked through the obscuring leaves to see movement near the edge of the clearing.

There were two figures— 

Wait, no.

There was someone down there, fighting...an animal of some sort. They were pinned to the ground and it was clear that the animal was overpowering. It was only when the animal was pushed off and the tribute stood up that he could see clearly that it was his fellow District 1 tribute. Yeji’s hair, that had been previously styled in two braids for the entirety of the Games, was now messily tied in a ponytail and she now wore several new scratches on her face and arms. They were fresh, so evidently, they had been caused by the animal that closely resembled a wild dog.

Despite the animal being nearly the same size as Yeji herself, the girl didn’t hesitate in attacking it, however it wasn’t deterred even when fresh wounds formed. Unfortunately, it seemed that Yeji was only succeeding in wearing herself out as the fight went on.

“Come out!” she yelled out suddenly which caused Wooyoung to jump slightly, luckily still secured by the rope. “I know you’re out there, asshole.”

Wooyoung was about to start climbing down, answering her challenge on instinct, when another figure soon emerged from the mass of greenery and he realised that Yeji hadn’t been talking to him. He saw the tribute’s tall stature and black hair that fell in front of his eyes. Park Seonghwa.

With the practised grace of a skilled opponent, the male confidently approached the fighting ring and immediately, the animal relented in its attacks. Wooyoung’s eyes widened as it backed off and circled around Seonghwa’s legs to eventually sit obediently next to the District 2 tribute.

Yeji clicked her tongue. “Huh, so this is your little pet now?”

“Better sidekick than you could’ve been.”

“As if I’d fucking serve you.”

Seonghwa chuckled while petting the animal softly. “I don’t know, babe. If you’re wanna take down your fellow partner, you may need a little help.”

This time, Yeji’s head tilted in interest. “You saying that you’re stronger than me?”

“I’m saying that you never stood a chance.”

Yeji stepped forward and brandished her knife grandly to which Seonghwa mirrored without hesitation. 

“Prove it.”

The clash of metal on metal was jarring as both of them immediately took the first swing. Yeji had a pair of daggers to match Seonghwa’s sword and it was clear that the two were well-acquainted with their respective weapons. All those years spent in the halls of their academies were solely for this moment. It was a test of endurance and strength, with not only their own pride on the line but the pride of their district. Ultimately, it would prove which district was better equipped in their training.

They were quite evenly matched, with neither side willing to give up. If it remained one against one, then this match would get boring very quickly. But if one more was added to the mix…

Before Wooyoung had time to plan his next moves properly, his body was already quickly scaling down the tree before quietly toeing around the edge of the clearing to get nearer to the fight. Luckily the pair weren’t too far from the edge and Wooyoung managed to position himself in throwing distance. Tightening his grip on the shaft of the spear, he raised the weapon to aim.

Suddenly, a low growl caught his attention and he only had a second to register the four-legged figure racing towards him before he instinctively swung the spear as a shield in front of him. It collided with a heavy weight and with a kick, Wooyoung sent the dog flying into a nearby tree.

There was a heavy thud and Wooyoung stared with wide eyes at the creature, which now sported a fresh cut across its face. It lay at the base of the trunk, not moving. 

His eyes snapped back to the clearing and he saw that Yeji and Seonghwa had halted their match to pinpoint their gazes upon him. Seonghwa’s eyes flicked over to the injured animal with a distinct glint of anger laced within his expression.

“Was wondering when you were gonna show up,” Yeji called out and Wooyoung naturally stepped forward into the clearing in response to the unspoken challenge.

He returned her gaze, some hints of understanding but for the most part, it had returned to the glaze of determination. Wooyoung guessed this really was the end, then. He panned over to the taller male, raising his brow in amusement.

“Long time no see, Park.”

Seonghwa showed hints of a smirk as he nodded towards him in acknowledgement.

“It has been a while, hasn’t it?”

There were several moments of silence as the three of them regarded each other with a careful eye. For a frivolous moment, he wondered what it would be like if he could sit and have a decent conversation with the other two. It reminded him how cruel the world was that it prefaced each of them as enemies before anything else. And now, their humanity had been sucked out of them and they had been spat out as perfect moulds of the ideal Career.

And then, as if pulled by strings, all three raised their respective weapons and attacked.

A metallic melody filled the silence as they moved in a seamless dance. To an outsider, it may have looked tiresome however Wooyoung followed through with the movements without a second thought. The figures of the other two transformed into the shapes of his instructors, trainers, other academy trainees and the situation suddenly felt less like a life or death situation and more like a training exercise.

“Don’t get too comfortable, One,” Seonghwa muttered and Wooyoung’s eyes widened a fraction as he quickly sidestepped a surprise attack from the side.

“You talking to the girl or me?” he huffed as he lunged in to scrape the side of the male’s forearm with his spear while evading one of Yeji’s daggers.

Seonghwa cocked the corner of his mouth in amusement. “I don’t know. Does it really matter?”

Before Wooyoung could conjure a reply, he tumbled to the side and his eyes shot open to find himself on the ground with a solid weight on top of him. 

“The girl has a name,” Yeji spat which was accompanied with a death glare. “Bitch.”

“Not sure if you recall,” Wooyoung muttered as he pushed Yeji off and they both rolled to stand in a fighting stance, “but I left the bitch back there.” He tilted his head towards the tree where the giant animal still lay.

A strike came from the third tribute present and Wooyoung held his spear in front of his body at the last moment to avoid getting sliced in half.

“Don’t call her that.”

“Oh, so she’s your bitch, huh?”

A new fire burned in Seonghwa’s eyes as he lunged forward and slashed again at Wooyoung’s torso. He jumped back as the other male relentlessly attacked with a new speed. He moved by reacting more than attacking as Seonghwa continued to grow sharper in his motions. Whereas he had been trained on the foundations of precise technique, Seonghwa’s movements focused on raw power to overwhelm the opponent.

Wooyoung only had enough time to react by holding out his spear before him as his only defense. It was only a matter of time before the shaft of wood would snap but until then, he still had time.

On adrenaline-fuelled instincts, he stuck out a foot as the other male stepped forward, causing Seonghwa to stumble slightly as he was met with only air. Without pause, Wooyoung sidestepped his opponent entirely and swung his battered spear across to come in contact with the back of the taller male’s head. The strength of Wooyoung’s swing coupled with the released inhibitions of pure instincts resulted in the resounding crack of the collision and he watched as Seonghwa’s head was sent into the hard dirt.

For several seconds, only the sounds of panting filled the arena which, for the first time, felt very empty.

Nevertheless, his eyes remained trained on the body in front of him, splayed on the ground. And as expected, it was only a few more moments before the boy raised his head again with nothing less of a murderous glare. Any other person would’ve surely been struck with fear however Wooyoung’s grip of his spear only tightened as he readied himself for another attack.

The attack came faster than he expected when he was suddenly flung to the side with a blistering heat engulfing his bearings. Simultaneously, a sharp pain ripped through his shoulder and an involuntary cry escaped his mouth. He whipped his head up from where he lay face-down on the ground to see that Yeji now held a long stick. 

At the end of the stick burned a ball of fire. He recalled their chariot outfits and wondered if Yeji had chosen her choice of weapon intentionally.

Unconsciously, he clenched his left hand and felt the cool metal on his ring finger. Somehow, the sensation both relaxed and spurred him on. Before him stood Yeji, with her makeshift torch, and Seonghwa was to his right, now rising to his feet. For some reason, he had become the first target.

His eyes darted to the side and he found that his previous weapon was now in several pieces. It didn’t seem that he was the only one left weaponless as he saw Seonghwa’s sword now lying several metres away from any one of them. He wasn’t deterred, since he hadn’t come with only one weapon. 

Despite the throbbing pain, he managed to swiftly aim one of the knives at Yeji’s right arm. At the same time, he rolled to the side as Seonghwa jumped up to strike. He only narrowly missed the other Career’s foot and his body went on autopilot as he stuck out a leg to trip up the other.

They were at the edge of the clearing and with two opponents ready to pounce, he felt his senses heighten exponentially. Seonghwa’s right hand was slowly inching towards his trouser pockets and from his peripheral vision, he saw Yeji switch her torch to her left hand. With her right hand, she tightened her grip on a dagger and held both weapons out in front of her.

Despite neither of them owning the gun, both of them seemed to be hovering their finger over the trigger.

The first hit came from Yeji. She swung her flames toward him and Wooyoung could only stumble backwards to avoid having his shirt singed off. He nearly missed the glint of metal and could only thank the many years of reflex training for the way he narrowly dodged the dagger blade.

He reached for another knife but before he could properly brandish it, he was pushed backwards. It was only once he had rolled backwards several times that he looked up to see Seonghwa purposefully approaching him, raising his sword, and Wooyoung saw in slow motion as it came swinging down. The only thing he could do was hold his knife out in front of himself as a last defense.

The blow never came.

Instead, there was a dull thumping sound that sounded way too familiar and his eyes flew open to see that Seonghwa was no longer before him. The boy’s body lay a metre away and Wooyoung’s eyes widened at the sight. There, lodged directly into the other male’s right shoulder, was — 

An arrow.

His head didn’t have time to catch up when Seonghwa growled and raised his head in surprise. The way his eyes landed on the arrow should have been comical but Wooyoung could only continue to stare in shock.

Suddenly, two more arrows were fired in succession and he watched as one landed in the male’s left arm while one embedded itself in his left thigh. 

They whipped their heads to backtrack the arrow’s trajectory and Wooyoung’s eyes frantically searched the surroundings. His breath quickened and his mind was a seesaw of relief and apprehension, until — finally — he spotted movement in the corner of his eye. 

In the midst of the leaves and branches, San was perched against the trunk of a nearby tree — several metres above the ground — with his bow lowered but ready to fire. Despite there being quite some distance between them and the blonde, there was no denying his commanding presence.

Wooyoung turned as he heard Seonghwa chuckle lowly.

“Looks like the last one finally decided to show up.”

_ No, stay the fuck away, San. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'll be honest, i don't know when the next chapter will be out because i'm changing the next events i had planned slightly. also, it's only the third week but i'm swamped in uni work so don't expect updates to get any faster. hope to see you guys soon

**Author's Note:**

> hope that you enjoyed it 
> 
> [twitter](https://mobile.twitter.com/hyucksbible)


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